


the garden he gets to see

by cauli



Series: The Resurrection AU [1]
Category: Alexander Hamilton - Ron Chernow, Hamilton - Miranda, Hamilton - Miranda (Broadway Cast) RPF, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bisexual Alexander Hamilton, I'm Sorry If This is Confusing, Multi, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Past Alexander Hamilton/Elizabeth "Eliza" Schuyler, Resurrection, Texting, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Twitter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:48:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25696813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cauli/pseuds/cauli
Summary: Waking up two hundred years after your death would be hard for anyone, but Alexander is doing his best to take it in stride. Resurrected and deaged, Hamilton gets to see the legacy he left behind.Or,Alexander Hamilton is resurrected by a necromancer and the Avengers become his pseudo-guardians.
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/Elizabeth "Eliza" Schuyler, Steve Rogers & Tony Stark
Series: The Resurrection AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1863520
Comments: 16
Kudos: 120





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [we keep living anyway](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5308961) by [QueenWithABeeThrone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenWithABeeThrone/pseuds/QueenWithABeeThrone). 



> wooohooo my hand slipped i hope you enjoy haha

“So what’s the plan?” Steve asked, running into the battle, “Is there a plan?” He hit a zombie at the back of its head, knocking it down to the ground efficiently.

“We improvise, like always” Tony replied, his voice crackling over his earpiece, “I don’t know about you guys but I haven’t dealt with the undead before.” Steve rolled his eyes, using his shield to decapitate a zombie swiping for his head. He rolled through the legs of another, slashing upwards.

“They’ve detected the source. A necromancer is in the building up ahead,” Natasha’s voice chimed in. A couple of yards away he could see her attacking a horde of the undead. “We suspect that if get him the rest of them should return to their, ah, previous state. They’re just puppets, no conscious thought or free will.” From somewhere to his left an arrow flew past his ear, landing in the forehead of a zombie.

“Tony and I will go,” Steve said, “Can you guys hold your own for a couple of minutes?”

“Don’t worry about us,” Clint said, running up next to him, “The sooner we get in and out the sooner I can break for lunch.”

“Well, let’s go Capsicle,” Tony said, flying in at his left, “What are we waiting for?”

The pair ran forward, Tony flying above the undead army while Steve slipped through them, making their way to the base.

“Grab on!” Tony said, offering his arm. Steve grasped Tony’s hand, letting him carry the two of them to one of the building’s balconies.

“Thanks.” Tony shrugged, walking forward, beginning their journey through the building.

“Why did it have to be dead bodies,” Tony muttered, “I have a thing about dead bodies. Why can’t these villains be more considerate?”

“At least their not alive,” Steve said, “Makes it easier to take them down.” 

The building was a maze of dark metal floors and walls, repeating themselves over and over. Part of Steve was pretty sure they’d been walking down the same hallway for the past ten minutes. Finally, like the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel, they’d found their necromancer.

“Hey man,” Tony said, “Do you think that you could turn down the whole resurrection thing? Those zombies are a real pain.”

“Those projects are nothing compared to my real triumph,” the man said smugly, “They’re disposable, mere appetizers before the main course.” The necromancer glanced to the side. Steve followed his gaze, his eyes landing on a man strapped to a table. He was probably in his mid-twenties, with a full head of auburn hair spread around his face like a halo. He was alive but unconscious. Steve could see the slow rise and fall of his chest. He felt bad for the kid, what did he do to die so young? Hell, what did he do that landed him in here? He refocused on the necromancer across from him.

“Who’s that?” he questioned, gesturing at the man on the table. The necromancer smiled maniacally.

“That’s my greatest triumph. His identity, well, I’m sure you’ll find out,” his voice took on a melodic tone, “Just you wait.”

There was something familiar about the rhythm, Steve couldn’t put his finger on it. Tony rolled his eyes, tapping his foot in impatience. Lifting an arm, he aimed a blaster at the man’s head.

“Last chance man.” When the man didn’t answer, Steve rolled his eyes and hit the man on the back of his head with his shield, knocking out the necromancer swiftly.

“How’s is out there?” Tony asked, speaking into his earpiece. “We’ve got the necromancer down.”

“They’re down,” Natasha replied, “Whatever you did, it worked. Let’s get out of here.”

“Hold on,” Steve interjected, “There’s a civilian here, the necromancer said he was a pet project.”

“Is he conscious?” Barton asked, his voice joining the conversation.

“Nope,” Tony said.

“Take him with you,” Natasha said, “We’ll let SHIELD run a few tests, make sure he’s not dangerous.”

“Roger,” Tony agreed, walking up to the unconscious civilian.

“You think he’s dangerous?” Steve asked, standing at Tony’s side. Tony shrugged.

“Only one way to find out, right? I’ll take the old guy, you take the hot one.” They unstrapped the man from the table, Steve swept him into his arms, carrying him bridal style outside. Tony slung the necromancer over his shoulder like a bag of flour.

“That the civilian?” Barton asked, pointing at the man in Steve’s arms. Steve nodded. “Well, the medical team is here, we’ll drop him off. I’m sure SHIELD is going to want to question him when he wakes up.” Steve placed the man gently on the gurney. The medical team worked quickly, hooking the man up to various drips and machines, keeping him heavily sedated. 

Tony dropped the necromancer in a SHIELD car, handcuffing him. He huffed, walking back towards the medical crew.

“What’s his status?” Tony asked the medical professional, tending to their civilian.

“His tissue is repairing itself rapidly,” he explained, “It’s like nothing we’ve ever seen. It could be a side effect of his resurrection, but we’re unsure.” Banner walked up to them, examining his patient.

“We’re keeping him heavily sedated now, just until we get back to the base.” Tony hummed, keeping his eyes trained on the gurney.

Clint walked up to his bedside, furrowing his brows as he looked at the civilian.

“Something wrong?” Steve asked.

“It's nothing, just, does he look familiar to you?” Clint asked, “I swear I’ve seen his face before.”

“He’s right,” Tony agreed, “I feel like I should know him.” Steve couldn’t argue with them, something about his face was eerily familiar. 

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Natasha said, shrugging, “He’s probably a reporter or something, got caught in the crossfire.”

“Now, I don’t know about you, but I could use a drink,” Tony said, clapping him on the shoulder. “

“Agreed,” Natasha said, joining them. “Vodka sounds real good right now.”

“You’re buying.”

\----

Since his rescue, their civilian had yet to wake up.

“Any new info?” Steve asked, walking up to Tony and Banner who stood at the civilian’s bedside. Banner sighed.

“They’ve run a few preliminary tests,” he said, “But he doesn’t match anyone from the last two centuries. He’s human, at least, partially.” Steve furrowed his eyebrows.

“What do you mean?”

“Sleeping Beauty right here is half Asgardian,” Tony said, crossing his arms, “We ran a test of his DNA against Thors’s, it was a match.” Steve felt his eyebrows reach his hairline.

“So he’s half-alien?” Banner nodded.

“The resurrection wouldn’t have worked if he wasn’t. If it wasn’t for his aesir DNA he would’ve been like those puppets that were fighting outside the base,” Banner said, “It also explains his rapid healing, his resurrection seemed to have deaged him, but the effects would’ve worn off by now, the rest of the healing was up to him.”

“Do we have any idea who he is?” Natasha asked, joining them. Bruce shook his head.

“His DNA and face aren’t bringing up any matches on our database,” he said, “We went back as far as we could, almost two hundred years. Nothing.”

“So this guy’s been dead for probably two hundred something years?” Steve asked.

“Essentially,” Tony said nodding, “I mean unless he was just really off record. But I doubt it.”

“He looks pretty good for two hundred in the grave,” Tony said. 

“He’s pretty hot,” Steve agreed.

“Is that really what we’re focusing on right now?” Natasha asked, joining them.

“He’s not wrong Nat,” Tony argued. She rolled his eyes. “Fine. He kinda looks like the guy on the ten-dollar bill,” Tony said, “I mean, if he was younger.”

“Alexander Hamilton?” Steve asked, “The founding father?”

“That’s the one!” Tony said, snapping, “Yeah.”

“I don’t know if we could even test for that,” Bruce said, looking over his glasses at the civilian, “Not with DNA anyways. Hamilton’s been dead for more than two hundred years, any trace of matching DNA in his descendants would slim to none.”

“Did you get anything out of the necromancer?” Tony asked, turning towards Natasha. She shook her head.

“We tried to use a truth serum, but he killed himself in his cell.” Steve winced. Not matter what a person had done, he always hated it when someone took their own life. Tony snorted.

“Dead necromancer, I love the irony.” Steve rolled his eyes.

“We’re going to wake him up in a non-descript room,” Banner said, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, “If he is from two hundred years ago it’ll probably be best for us to reduce the shock as much as possible.”

“I wanna watch,” Tony declared.

“I’ll join you,” Steve said, “Might as well.”

“Well, I have some paperwork waiting for me,” Natasha said, “But text me if something cool happens.” She walked out of the medical wing.

“Let’s go?”

They wheeled his hospital bed to one of their interrogation rooms. It was plain, with white walls and a one-way mirror. If this guy really was from the eighteen century he shouldn’t freak out immediately.

“You wanna talk to him, Rogers?” Banner asked, “I mean, you have the most experience with the whole waking up in a different time thing.”

“I mean, sure,” he said, shrugging. Banner nodded, taking the various tubes and machines out of the man, leaving him lying in the hospital bed.

“He’ll wake up in five,” Banner said, “We’ll be on the other side of the glass.”

“Have fun Capsicle,” Tony said, sending him a mocking salute. He rolled his eyes. His teammates exited the room, leaving Steve on his own with the unconscious man. 

Thankfully, he didn’t have to wait long for the man to wake, he began stirring quickly. His fingers were twitching, his eyes opening revealing their deep blue colour.

Whoever he was, founding father or no, he was awake and he definitely had some questions. His eye focused, snapping to attention. He sat up in his bed, with rigidity Steve remembered from his time in the army. He is, or at least, was a soldier. He looked around the room before training his eyes on Steve.

“Good morning,” he said, because what else is he supposed to say? They know virtually nothing about the man sitting across from him, what they do know only makes him more dangerous. The man blinked. “How are you?”

“Where is Betsey?” he asked, ignoring his question, “Where is my wife?”

“I’ll help you find her if we can,” he promised, wording his response carefully, “What is the last thing you remember?” A flash of pain crosses the man’s expression before a mask falls in front of his face. When it was clear he wouldn’t respond, Steve pressed on. “Do you remember your name?”

“Of course good sir,” he snapped, “Do you not?” When Steve hesitated the man continued talking. “Well, then I shan’t deign you with a response. I fail to find justification for sharing this information.” His speech pattern was outdated, his words laced with an accent Steve couldn’t quite identify. It fell somewhere between American, Thor and Scottish.

“We’re just trying to help,” he promised. The man scoffed.

“Tis hard to believe,” he said, “Forgive me, good sir, if I am untrusting, but I have awoken in an unfamiliar place after I was shot.”

“Shot?” Steve questioned, digging for more information. The man scowled.

“Yes, shot! Burr, the scoundrel!” he cursed, “He shot to kill! Slimy bastard.”

“Burr?” Steve’s knowledge of American history could’ve been failing him, but he was fairly sure a certain founding father had been shot dead by Vice President Aaron Burr in 1804. “Sir, what year do you think it is?” The man scoffed.

“1804, _anno domini,_ ” he replied, with no shortage of sarcasm, (Steve didn’t even know sarcasm existed in the 1800s), the final puzzle piece falling into place. “Now, once again, where am I?” Steve winced, glancing back towards the mirror where Banner and Tony stood.

“Mr. Hamilton-”

“So you do know my name!” the identified founding father exclaimed, “Now, where am I?”

“I’m sorry Mr. Hamilton,” Steve said, wincing, “I don’t where to begin.”

“The beginning,” Hamilton replied, “I have found that it’s where the most effective storytellers tend to begin.”

“It’s 2015,” Steve said, deciding to avoid dancing around the subject, “It’s been two hundred and eleven years since you died.” Hamilton’s expressive face blanked, devoid of emotion.

“Then, how, pray tell, am I here exactly?” he asked, raising an eyebrow in skepticism. “If you are to be believed I should be rotting in a grave.”

“There was a situation with a necromancer,” he explained, “We rescued you from his base a couple of days ago.” Hamilton’s face drained of colour, leaning back into his pillows.

“My family, my _children,_ they’re all gone?” his voice was soft, a stark contrast from before, catching him off guard.

Steve was not prepared for this. Admittedly, he hadn’t really thought about the fact that everyone Hamilton knew was dead, rotting six feet under. When he’d awoken at least all his friends we’re still alive, just older. At least he’d gotten to say goodbye.

“I’m sorry sir,” Steve said patting Hamilton’s shoulder awkwardly, trying his best to comfort the founding father, “Truly.” For a moment they sat there in silence before Hamilton shook his head, smiling at him weakly.

“There is no time to dwell on the past, no?” he said, his voice quivering, “What’s done is done. I believe I have much to learn, the world must have changed.”

\----

Hamilton examined his reflection. 

“It appears as if I’ve lost three decades worth of lines from my face,” he muttered, turning his head to see his face from all angles, “I’ve not felt this spry in years.”

“Your resurrection has returned you to your mid-twenties,” Tony explained, “We can’t really peg when exactly, but you’re definitely not the guy who died in his late forties.” Steve rolled his eyes. “How old were you by the way?” Tony asked, “Historians could never figure that out.”

“Forty-seven,” Hamilton replied indignantly, “I believe I made that quite clear.”

“Chernow owes my twenty bucks,” Tony said smiling smugly. Steve sighed.

“Is resurrection very common?” he asked, “Would you have answers if I were to question you?”

“You’re the only one man,” Tony admitted, shrugging, “And, uh, the only reason you’re coherent is cause you’re half-alien.” Hamilton blanked. Steve groaned. Was this really how Tony had decided to drop this bomb on Hamilton?

“Pardon?”

“Well, if you were entirely human you wouldn’t have any thoughts or conscience,” he explained, “The necromancer is only able to use dead humans like puppets, because you’re half alien he was able to bring back your consciousness as well.”

“I am half extra-terrestrial?” he asked, choking on his words, “And nobody deemed it necessary to tell me before now?” Tony shrugged.

“It didn’t come up,” he said, “Besides, we’re going to have Thor come in, check you out. We’ll see if he knows anything.” Hamilton sighed, avoiding eye contact. Steve couldn’t imagine what was running through his mind. 

“What was the goal of my resurrection?” Hamilton questioned, changing the topic, “I fail to see my worth in this century.”

“We can’t tell you that,” Steve said, “Because we don’t know.” Hamilton looked despondent, his eyes glazing over. It struck Steve how young Hamilton looked. He may have been nearing fifty mentally, but he looked like a kid. It squeezed at his heart.

“Listen, man,” Tony said, “I know this sucks, trust me, I do. But this is a second chance for you.” He laughed, “Hell, it’s a second chance for everyone. What better way to send a political message than with a founding father?”

“If I am to be of use in the century I will need to catch up. I require some history books,” he replied, “To understand the advances of the past two hundred years. Perhaps then I will be able to aid this century in whatever way I can.”

“Of course,” Steve said, “Whatever you need.” For a moment Hamilton’s gaze drifted away from them.

“And then, I want to visit my family’s burial site,” he said, “I imagine it’s possible, no?” Tony and Steve exchanged a look. Neither wanted to leave the founding father alone while mourning the death of his family, it’d be a recipe for disaster.

“Of course,” Steve said, “If it’s important to you. We can go with you if you’d like?” Hamilton swallowed.

“That would be adequate.” Hamilton agreed. “I appreciate it, thank you Steven, Anthony.”

“Mr. Hamilton, please,” Steve said, “Call me Steve.”

“And it’s Tony man,” he interjected, “Got it?”

“Is it commonplace for friends to reference each other with shortened names?” Hamilton asked inquisitively.

“Uh, I guess?”

“Then I must insist you call me Alexander, Alex even,” he declared. Steve winced.

“Mr. Hamilton I don’t-”

“Ignore him, Alex,” Tony said, waving Steve off, “Steve’s a little caught up on history.” Steve sputtered at Tony’s casual nature. Hamilton smiled, shaking off any trace of his previous grief. He looked down at his clothes, a SHIELD ordained combo of a grey t-shirt and matching sweatpants.

“Now, I do believe there is something to be done about my wardrobe?”

\----

The first time Alexander sneaks out of the compound is exhilarating. He wakes up early in the morning, avoiding crossing paths with Steve, who leaves for a run at six in the morning each day. He runs down the stairs, escaping into the streets armed with nothing more than the cell phone, some cash and a credit card Tony had given him when he’d woken up. He walks through the streets, smiling at the livelihood of New York’s citizens. It seemed as if nothing could diminish the energy of his city. He slipped into a cafe joining the queue of customers.

“Welcome to Starbucks,” said the woman, standing across the counter, “What can I get you?” 

“What is your most popular item?” Alexander requested, “I am admittedly unfamiliar with your menu.” The woman looked at him strangely, as if she didn’t believe him.

“Our coffee frappuccino is pretty popular,” she said, “I could get you one of those?”

“Frap-uh-chee-no?” he said, “If it pleases you, M’lady.” She looked at him strangely, making him wince. His knowledge of modern culture and dialect is admittedly still lacking. His efforts with slang sounded unnatural.

“Uh, what name? For your cup?”

“Alex.” She hummed, writing his name on the cup. Alexander had begun going by the nickname in an effort to integrate better.

“That would be four dollars.” Alexander reached into his wallet, fishing out a ten. He smiled at his portrait before handing the bill over to the woman. She looked at the bill before her jaw dropped, comparing the bill to the man in front of her. Alexander couldn’t help but smile.

“Thank you m’lady,” he said, bowing with all the manners of the perfect eighteenth-century gentlemen. She looked at him incredulously as he walked towards the other end of the counter. He stands at the counter, his fingers drumming against the wood. His phone buzzes, a message from Tony lighting up his screen

> **TONY**  
>  yo! Starbucks? that’s where you decided to sneak out??? 
> 
> **AHAM**  
>  I have no idea what you mean.
> 
> **TONY**  
>  lmao u need to learn how to text

“Alex?” an employee calls.

“Thank you,” he said, grabbing the cold drink.

“No problem,” said the employee, “Have a nice day.”

“And to you my good sir!” he said happily, sipping on his drink. He exited the Starbucks drinking his Frap-uh-chee-no. Delicious.

\----

 **Ava Jane** _@avavava_  
lmao, this guy at my starbucks today was talking like he was from the 1800s!! AND he looked just like the GUY ON THE TEN he totally knew it too lmao  
 _10,000 Likes_

\----

Steve was impressed by Hamilton’s enthusiasm. He jumped into the twenty-first century headfirst. He was like a sponge, absorbing knowledge from left to right. He’d taken a liking to the internet, stating that there was something about the ease of access of information without the wasted time of searching through the pages of a book that brought him great joy. 

“It’s quite the improvement,” he said happily, his hands flying across the keyboard, “I can’t imagine how many more pamphlets I could’ve written with this kind of technology.”

Steve pitted the alternate universe where Hamilton had this technology in his prime. 

Social Media had become one of his greatest fascinations calling it “the epitome of free speech.” He’d also been using it to work on adjusting his speech to fit in with modern speakers. He’d been doing surprisingly well, though, sometimes he’d slip up and would slide Latin into the conversation without thought. Apparently, the musical had underestimated Hamilton’s average talking speed. His constant questions and opinions became a constant background noise throughout the compound. 

One morning, while he was making some pancakes Hamilton approached him eagerly, sitting down at the breakfast bar.

“Hello, Steve,” he said, greeting him with a smile, “How are you this morning?” Steve glanced back at the founding father. Dark circles had bruised their way under his eyes, his fingers twitched with erratic energy. Flyaways framed his face, escaping his low ponytail.

“Did you sleep last night Alexander?” he asked, taking his attention off the stove for a second, “Like, at all?”

“Ever since I discovered coffee I’ve found that sleep is even less necessary than it was during the war!” he said excitedly, “It is one of my favourite inventions of this modern world!” Steve sighed.

“You still need to sleep, y’know,” he said, “Coffee doesn’t erase that need.” Hamilton waved him off.

“Unimportant, I came here to ask a question!” he said, “How does one make a Twitter profile? I have watched many interact on the platform and wish to join them!” 

“Well I don’t know if I can do that,” Steve admitted, “I mean, the public doesn’t know you, y’know, came back from the dead and everything.”

“Well, then why don’t we tell them?” he asked incredulously, “I find no issue here.”

“I’m not sure if anyone told you,” he said, “People don’t come back from the dead very often, especially not founding fathers of this country.” Hamilton rolled his eyes.

“Well, I’m here, no?” he said, “I believe the people need to know.” Steve sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

\----

**OUR TOP TEN FAVOURITE MOMENTS FROM ALEXANDER HAMILTON’S RESURRECTION ANNOUNCEMENT**

_10\. When asked if he was a fraud:_ “What do I have to achieve by impersonating myself? I must admit, I do not envy the actors who portray me, my essence is not easy to replicate. Besides, from what I’ve read, there have been crazier things that have happened in the past two hundred years.”

 _9\. On his time in the grave:_ “I do not remember. Kind of like that night I spent with His Excellency and Jefferson.”

 _8\. On modern technology:_ “My greatest discovery was how man flew so quickly after my demise. Everything after that seems like an afterthought. Though, I am quite fond of the smartphone.”

 _7\. When asked about the ten-dollar bill:_ “One of my favourite things about this century. I am grateful that you chose a flattering portrait. I was admittedly not fond of a couple of portraits I sat for. A waste of eight hours I could’ve been working.”

 _6\. When complimented on his outfit:_ “Thank you, my good sir! I chose it myself.”

 _5\. On modern music:_ “I must say the decrease in popularity of orchestral music saddens me greatly. I am, however greatly enamoured with the hip hop.”

 _4\. On the abolition of slavery:_ “I believe there’s still more to do. Of course when I woke there was an initial shock of seeing an African American walking free but I have since been educated by Captain Rogers.”

 _3\. When asked if he would run for the presidency:_ “Is that allowed? I am technically forty-seven but my body has dragged to a state from during the war, in my mid-twenties. Even ignoring the age issue, I was not born in the United States, this, however, should not be an issue as there was no country when I was born. I’ll get back to you on that.”

 _2\. On gay marriage:_ “I was, and continue to be, I believe the term is bisexual. To know that sodomy is now accepted is world-changing.”

 _1._ _On the musical:_ “I am ecstatic! In my New York as well! How wonderful. Now, how does one get tickets?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey so the beginnig of this is inspired by hamdevil! i want =ed this fic to take place in 2015 just so i could line up this timeline stuff haha. other than that some characters might be making appearances that don't make sense um rip

“I want to start working,” Hamilton declared, walking into the Avengers kitchen. It was early in the morning, Steve still hadn’t returned from his daily run. Natasha was probably on a mission, Clint was probably tagging along and Dr. Banner would be in his lab. Tony raised an eyebrow, pouring his coffee.

“Haven’t you already started?” he asked, “What the hell are you doing on your computer.”

“That is not work,” Hamilton said indignantly, “That is a public service.” Tony rolled his eyes. Alexander walked over to him, joining him at the counter and grabbing a mug of his own.

“Right, well, I’m not a hundred percent sure why you want to work,” he said, “I’m a billionaire if you haven’t noticed, which translates to enough money for my friends and me to use until we all bite the bullet.” Hamilton winced, pouring the coffee into his own mug. “Bad choice of words, my bad.”

“No matter,” he said, “Even if I continue to live with you, which I appreciate, I would like to begin accumulating wealth for myself. I have to say, living off your generosity, it doesn’t feel great.”

“Well, think of it this way,” Stark said, pouring creamer, “Without you, I wouldn’t have a bank to keep my money, right? Anyway, if you really do want to work, I know a guy.”

“You know a guy?” Hamilton asked, “What do you mean?” Alexander sipped from his cup, smiling as he gulped down the scalding liquid.

“Yeah, he’s setting up a firm in Hell’s Kitchen,” Tony said, “Not exactly the most prestigious place, but cause you’re not worried about funds, I think you’ll like it. He’s a good guy, a really good lawyer too.”

“Huh, what is this firm called?” Alexander said, pulling out his phone to Google it.

“Murdock and Nelson,” Tony said, pulling his phone out of his pocket, “I can bring you there if you’d like, you can go in and apply for a position.” Alexander pulled up their website. It was indeed a small firm, just getting started in the Hell’s Kitchen Neighbourhood. Alexander hadn’t actually visited that area of the city yet. He was slowly making his way through the city but hadn’t found the time for that neighbourhood.

“I can make my way there myself,” Alexander said, “I will use Google Maps and take the train.”

“Sounds good to me,” Tony said, shrugging, “Take my MetroCard.” Tony pulled out his wallet and slipped the yellow plastic card across the table. “I’ll let Nelson know that you’re swinging by.”

“Thank you, Tony,” Hamilton said gratefully, “Really for everything.”

“It’s no problem man,” he said, “It’s what I’ve been saying, right? I gotta say, you’re adjusting really well too, your vocab has gotten so much better.” Hamilton smiled proudly from the praise.

“Thank you, Tony,” he said, “I have been practicing.”

“And it’s showing,” Tony commented, “Now, I’ll text you the directions to the firm, okay? And, uh, just as a heads up, Murdock, one of the firm’s partners, he’s blind. So, uh, try not to be a dick, okay?”

“Noted, right,” Hamilton said, grabbing his coat, a bright red puffer jacket Steve had gifted him, “I will see you tonight? At dinner?”

“Oh definitely,” Tony said, “We’re having Thai, I need to introduce you to all the non-white people food you missed two hundred years ago.” Hamilton smiled as he pulled a black knit har over his hair and walked into the tower’s elevator.

“See you later Tony!”

“Bye, Hamilton.”

The elevator closed smoothly, Tony’s elevator music of choice this morning was the 80s power ballads. Steve and Tony had decided that music appreciation was a crucial part of Alexander’s twenty-first-century education. Journey’s vocals played through the speakers quietly as Alexander began his descent to the ground floor. When the door opened he waved at Richard, the tower’s security guard, as he exited and made his way into the New York streets. 

Seeing New York City’s skyscrapers covered in a thick blanket of snow was otherworldly, it really took his breath away. The Avengers Tower was right in the middle of the city, just off Times Square. The surreality of his life wasn’t helped by the golden _Hamilton_ musical posters plastered around the city. 

_Who lives, who dies, who tells your story?_

Hamilton snorted. Everyone had died and now he was alive, telling his story, the irony wasn’t lost on him. He avoided Broadway, it was a nightmare for him. No, he did not want to get mobbed today, he had somewhere to be. Thankfully, his large coat and hat obscured his face, letting him blend into the crowd. He slipped into the subway, navigating the underground pathways and hopped onto the train.

The New York subway experience was unlike anything Hamilton had ever experienced. The carriage hadn’t offered much space, keeping transportation limited to families, much like the cars on the streets above. Travelling with strangers was fascinating, it captured Hamilton’s attention. Everyone from teenagers listening to music in their earphones and elderly women reading the daily paper all coming together on the train. 

When Alexander arrived at his stop he slipped out of the carriage, walking up to the surface. Hell’s Kitchen had the same charming buildings as many other New York neighbourhoods, fire escapes decorating the exterior. Hamilton looked down at his phone and began following the small blue line towards the law firm. As he was focusing on his phone he went crashing into another stranger.

“Woah, man are you good?” the stranger asked. Thankfully, he didn’t seem annoyed, only concerned. He had floppy brown hair, wearing glasses with red lenses.

“Uh, yeah, not a scratch,” Hamilton said, “I’m sorry about that, I wasn’t paying attention.”

“All good,” he said, smiling charmingly, “I didn’t expect you to be there. I’m Matt Murdock.”

“Murdock?” Hamilton asked, “As in Nelson and Murdock?”

“The one and only,” he said, smiling, ‘Why, have you heard of us? In need of a lawyer?”

“No, actually, I’m a lawyer,” he clarified, “A pretty damn good one,” _Burr was better,_ he added silently, “If I do say so myself. I was actually heading over there to apply. I’ve been looking for a job.”

“Well, we’re not exactly hotshot lawyers,” Matt said, “You’d probably be taking a large cut of what you’ve made in the past, just, ah, as a fair warning.”

“Money’s not an issue for me,” Alexander replied, “Promise.”

“Well, I’ll bring you in, meet the team,” he said, “You can meet Foggy and Karen. We helped Karen with a case a little bit ago and Foggy was my roommate in college. We went to Columbia together.”

Columbia, Formerly King’s College. “I went there too.”

“I’ll definitely introduce you to Foggy then,” Matt said, smiling, “He’ll love you.”

“Good to know,” Hamilton said, smiling.

“What was our name again?” he asked, “I don’t think I caught it.”

“Alex,” he responded, “Uh, yeah, just call me Alex.”

“Well, okay Alex, just turn here, “ Matt said, “We’ve arrived. Welcome to Nelson and Murdock.” The Nelson and Murdock building was small but nice. A woman was standing at the door, leaning against the wall.

“Welcome,” she said, smiling, “How’s it going this morning?”

“Good, good,” Matt said, smiling charmingly, “How are you, Karen?” She didn’t respond and instead narrowed her eyes, her gaze settling on Alexander.

“Matt you blind piece of shit!” she said excitedly, “Where did you find him?”

“Alex?” Matt asked, confused, “We bumped into each other on the way here. He said he was coming here to apply for a job.”

“You’re joking,” she said, turning to face Alexander, “He’s joking.”

“‘Fraid, not ma’am,” he said, smiling, “You’re looking at your newest lawyer.”

“Of course you bumped into our blind partner,” she said, “Should probably let you inside before you get mobbed, right?” Alexander smiled.

“Why would Alex get mobbed?” Matt asked, looking confused.

“Because you happened to pick up the ten-dollar founding father,” she said, “Come on in, both of you. we’ve got to explain to Foggy what’s going on here.”

“So when you said you went to Columbia-”

“I really mean t I went to King’s,” Alexander agreed, finishing Matt’s thought, “But, ah, I thought it’d be better if I didn’t talk about it like I lived two hundred years ago.”

“Foggy is a big fan,” the woman said, “Try not to kill him, would you? I’m Karen by the way.”

“Nice to meet you,” he said, “I’d introduce myself but it seems futile at this point.”

“Probably,” she agreed, “You would boost our client number like crazy if we could afford you.”

“I’m not looking for money,” Alexander clarified, “I’m living with Tony, so my expenses are mostly covered by him. I’m just looking for work.”

“You’re brilliant,” she said, “This is gonna be so good, I actually cannot wait. We’ve got to take you to the musical too! Oh my God. Foggy! Where are you!”

“One-second Karen!” a second male voice called, “I’m coming.” Foggy Nelson had a round face with earnest blue eyes and a quiff of blonde hair. When he spotted Alexander his jaw dropped.

“Holy shit!” he said excitedly, “Oh my God! Matt you genius! This is the best!” Matt laughed good-naturedly. “Stark told me you were coming but I didn’t really believe him, not gonna lie.”

“Well, I’m here,” Alexander said, smiling.

“And there’s a million things you haven’t done!” Foggy sang playfully. Hamilton smiled.

“But just you wait.”

\----

> **TONY**  
>  i got you noodles, pad se ew
> 
> **AHAM**  
>  Can’t wait! See you later.
> 
> **TONY**  
>  you're getting better at texting lol
> 
> **AHAM**  
>  Thank you

\----

When Alexander returned home from Hell’s Kitchen Tony was already waiting for him in the kitchen with the Thai food. The only thing wrong about this was that Tony wasn’t alone. There was a stranger in the kitchen with sculpted facial hair and wearing a dark blue intricate robe. A red cape was draped over the man’s shoulder, floating around him.

“Uh, Tony?” Alexander asked, taking off his coat, “Who’s this?”

“I’m Doctor Stephen Strange,” the stranger said, introducing himself, “It’s nice to meet you, Mister Hamilton.”

“Likewise,” Hamilton replied, shaking the man’s hand, “What are you doing here.”

“We were actually discussing your recent resurrection,” Tony said.

“I see,” Alex said, hanging his jacket on the coat, “And?”

“We were discussing specifically, the repercussions of your resurrection on the timeline,” Doctor Strange explained, “I’m the guardian of the time stone, so the timeline is kind of my thing.”

“And I was telling the wizard here that it shouldn’t affect the timeline,” Tony said, staring Strange down, “Since it’s not like you were pulled from your time or anything, the past hasn’t changed.”

“And I agreed,” Strange said, “So really, our business here is done.”

“Will you be joining us for dinner?” Alexander asked, “For Thai food?”

“I should go-”

“I have enough noodles for the three of us Potter,” Tony said, “Sit your ass down.” Strange rolled his eyes.

“Who’s Potter?” Alexander asked curiously.

“Right, you’re not caught up yet,” Tony said, “He’s a wizard, like fancy pants over here.”

“I’m not a wizard Stark,” Strange insisted, “I’m a sorcerer.”

“Sure,” Ton replied, rolling his eyes. He turned to face Alexander. “I am going to force you to read Harry Potter, okay?”

“Okay,” Hamilton agreed, “If it is integral to today’s culture I’ll read it.”

“Trust me it is,” Tony said, “Anyways, how were Nelson and Murdock?”

“Everyone was really nice,” he said, grabbing plates and cutlery from the cupboards, “Y’know after getting over the whole shock of my identity and stuff. Apparently they want to take me to the musical.” Alexander placed the plates down along the table. “Matt is really nice, really hot too, I bumped into him on the street actually. He didn’t realize who I was, ‘cause, y’know, he’s blind.” Alexander walked back towards the cupboards. “He’s pretty cool too. Then Karen is really nice, really funny too. She’s really organized, got me all caught up on their current cases. I’m just going to assist a couple to get back into the groove of law and stuff.” He climbed onto the counter in an attempt to reach the top shelf where the cups were. “Foggy is really fun. A really goofy guy, has a little bit of a babyface but he’ll thank himself for that in twenty years.”

“They really don’t exaggerate about how much you talk,” Strange said, interrupting Alexander’s monologue, “I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“Didn’t you once talk for five hours or something?” Tony asked, “At a something or other convention.”

“I talked for six hours at the constitutional convention,” Alexander corrected, “But I probably could’ve gone on longer if they hadn’t cut me off.”

“Don’t you get dehydrated?” Strange asked, furrowing his eyebrows together in concern

“I don’t notice,” Hamilton said, shrugging.

“That’s concerning,” Strange said, “Have you had a doctor’s visit recently?”

“Banner gave him a check-up when he first woke up,” Tony said, “Other than that, no.”

“Let me know if you need one,” Stephen said, “I am actually a doctor.”

“Thank you,” Alexander said, “I appreciate the offer.” 

Tony opened up the styrofoam containers. Steam floated off of the food, floating the flavours into Alexander’s nose.

“It smells wonderful,” he said, “Unlike anything I’ve ever eaten.”

“Thai food is one of the wonders of the world,” Tony said, “Use a fork for now. I’ll teach you how to use chopsticks another time.” Alexander nodded, accepting the plate of noodles and fried rolls Tony made for him. He examined the roll carefully, holding it gingerly between two fingers.

“What is this?” he asked, looking at it curiously.

“A spring roll,” Tony said, his mouth full of one already, “It’s fried heaven. Eat it, dude.”

Alexander took a hesitant bite before he nearly moaned. He blushed in embarrassment as Strange and Tony took the chance to laugh at him

“It’s really good,” he said, still blushing, “I enjoy it immensely.”

“Introducing you to the world’s cuisine is going to be quite the trip,” Strange said, attacking his own plate of noodles, “If this is how you react every time.”

“I’ll send you a video Potter,” Tony said, taking a sip from his water, “You won’t miss a thing.”

“It’s unfair when the two of you team up against me,” Alexander complained, “I am your senior, you should respect your elders.”

“You look like you’re barely making it through puberty,” Strange snickered, “I think you should be the one watching your mouth _young man._ ”

Alexander humphed indignantly, staring mournfully at his noodles.

\----

Alexander was half-way through _The Goblet of Fire_ when Thor arrived in the building. At least, he assumed it was Thor. From the descriptions, Tony had given him the man matched up, straight down to the hammer.

“Are you Thor?” he asked, seeking confirmation for his speculation.

“I am,” the man, or was he a god? Hamilton wasn’t sure about the technicalities. “I am looking for a Hamilton? Stark told me that he was half aesir.”

“Twould be me,” Alexander replied, reverting to his older speaking pattern in Thor’s presence. The god seemed to match more of his eighteenth-century speech than his newly acquired twenty-first-century vocabulary. “SHIELD has told me they recently tested my genetics.” Thor narrowed his eyes, looking Hamilton up and down. Alexander stared straight back, never one to back down from a challenge. He straightened his spine, rising to his full height.

“Are you aware which parent is the Asgardian?” Thir asked, “It may help in identifying which Asgardian is your parent.”

“I believe t’was my father,” he said, “My mother expired from sickness when I was but a young lad.”

“And your date of birth?” he asked, “I will be able to determine who walked the Earth during the time of your conception.”

“Eleventh of January in 1757.”

“Stark did mention you were out of your time,” Thor mumbled, “I will confirm with my father, check my records.”

“Thank you, good sir,” Alexander said, “I appreciate it.”

“I see chivalry is not dead in your time,” he said, smiling, “I do miss those days. I’m afraid today’s dialogue does not hold the same respect, nor the grace.”

“I have to agree,” Hamilton said, smiling. “There are, however, many more expressions and expletives that I enjoy.”

Thor raised an eyebrow.

“Dickwad is among my favourites,” Alexander admitted, a small spreading across his face.

“Ah yes,” Thor said, “Stark can get quite creative with his cursing. Are you adjusting well to the new century?” 

“I like to think so, “ Alexander said, “It’s a difficult adjustment, but I was, I am, a writer. Words are what I do.” He lifted the book in his lap. “Of course, modern literature is a great help.”

“I’m quite fond of that series,” Thor said amicably, “My brother and I read it together.”

“Family bonding?”

“More like restoration,” Thor said, “But yes, I suppose.”

“Trust me when I say I understand,” Alexander said sympathetically, “My relationship with my father was… weak to say the least.”

“Well I’ll see what I can do while I search for him,” he said, “Do you happen to know what he looks like? Do you resemble him?”

“I took after my mother,” Alexander said, shaking his head, “My father had dark hair, green eyes.”

Thor hesitated before responding.

“Noted, thank you, Mister Hamilton,” he said, “And, I’m sorry for your loss.”  
“My loss?” Alexander asked, laughing emptily, “Everyone I lost has been dead for well over a century.”

“But to you, it’s been a little less than a month,” Thor said, “Take time to mourn. Go visit their graves, pay your respects.”

Alexander sighed, his phone weighed heavily in his pocket where the address of his family's final resting place was tucked into his messages between himself and Steve. Despite it being the first thing he’d asked for he hadn’t forced himself to go. He shared as much with Thor.

“I have the address,” Alexander said, “For their resting place. I- I couldn’t bring myself to go. Seeing their graves, I think it'll be too real. As long as I avoid going I think that I can pretend that I’m just working. That they’re waiting at home for me at the Grange.”

“I’ll find your father, perhaps it will be good for you to connect with someone from your past.”

“Somehow I’m grateful someone is here,” Alexander said, “Even if it is the father that abandoned me. Maybe I truly am desperate.”

“All the more reason to grieve,” Thor said, “Once you’ve made peace, perhaps then you can connect with your new family, here.”

“Thank you, Thor,” Hamilton said, “I truly appreciate everything you’re doing for me. You don’t have to do any of this.”

“Anything for fellow gentlemen,” Thor said, amusement leaking into his voice. “Have a good day Mister Hamilton.” He turned around, walking back towards the balcony of the tower.

“Have a good flight Thor,” Alexander called, turning towards the balcony. Thor waved one last time before flying off.

\----

> **AHAM**  
>  Steve
> 
> **AHAM**  
>  Can you come with me to Trinity Church today at three?
> 
> **STEVE ROGERS**  
>  Sure Alexander. Should I bring flowers?
> 
> **AHAM**  
>  Please.

\----

Alexander walked through Trinity Church. His hands were shaking where they were tucked into his coat pockets. Whether it was from the cold or his nerves he wasn’t sure. He pulled his hood over his head in an effort to disguise his identity, praying for some privacy. Steve would be meeting him there. 

It was hard to miss his grave. It was a monument, with all the elegance and extravagance that he never deserved. He approached his grave cautiously. He examined the tombstone.

_ALEXANDER HAMILTON_

_The PATRIOT of incorruptible Integrity_

_The SOLDIER of approved Valour_

_The STATESMEN of consummate Wisdom_

_Who’s TALENTS and VIRTUES will be admired long after the MARBLE shall have MOULDERED into dust._

_He died 12th in 1804 Aged 47._

This. This was his legacy. Everything he'd done, everything he'd worked for. He traced a finger across the marble of the headstone. Everything _Eliza_ had worked for, how hard she must've worked to allow him to be buried in a marked grave at all. Apparently, even after death, his Betsey was still too good for him.

Speaking of Eliza.

Her tomb was modest, nothing compared to the temple she deserved, praising her every thought and action. The words were simple.

_ELIZA_

_Daughter of Philip Schuyler_

_Widow of Alexander Hamilton_

_Born at Albany, Aug. 9th, 1757_

_Died at Washington, Nov. 9th, 1854_

_Interred Here_

Widow. The word made him wince, that was his fault. Both their graves were covered in flowers, no doubt due to the success of the musical. Small American flags were scattered across their tombs. When he looked at his grave he wondered if there was even a body left in the soil. A little further away from him, another grave caught his eye. 

Angelica’s grave was even smaller than her sisters, unfitting for a woman whose presence had filled up a room like any other. For a moment he allowed himself to reminisce about his sister in law. He smiled slightly when he thought about how much Angelica would enjoy the twenty-first century. Should she have been born in this time the world would’ve trembled at her accomplishments without being held back by society’s expectations of women. Even in death, the sisters were as close as ever, buried in close vicinity. 

Finally, Alexander’s eyes trailed off to a familiar grave. An unmarked headstone tucked right beside his own grave. Silently, he sent a prayer to Eliza, thanking her for burying him in close vicinity to their son. Philip’s grave lacked the same flowers as his and Eliza’s. Behind him, he heard the snow crunch- footsteps. He turned around, sighing in relief as he saw Steve walk up to him.

“Hey there,” Steve said, “How are you holding up?”

“Not great,” Alexander admitted, wiping the stray tears from his face, “Definitely not amazing.”

“I brought lilies,” Steve said, placing the bouquet in his hands.

“Eliza would love them,” Alexander muttered, “She used to grow them in our garden.” He placed three of the blossoms gingerly on Eliza’s tombstone.

“Your grave is beautiful,” Steve said awkwardly.

“All thanks to her,” Alexander said, pointing towards his wife. “Best of wives and best of women.” Alexander walked towards Angelica’s grave placing two more blossoms on the headstone, Finally, he walked to Phillip’s grave and placed the rest of the bouquet. He leaned down.

“Hey there Phillip,” he whispered, “I- I know it’s been a while. I’m sorry about that. But I’m here now, right?” He glanced back towards Steve. “I brought a friend with me today. He’s helped a lot over the past month. I think you’d like him.” Alexander didn’t stop the tears flowingly freely down his face, falling into the show.

“I’m so sorry, son,” he whispered. “I love you.” He traced the headstone gingerly before standing up and walking towards Eliza’s grave.

“Phillip?” Steve asked hesitantly.

“My eldest,” Alexander explained, “He died in a duel, it was my fault.”

“Tell me about them,” Steve said.

“Them?”

“Your family,” Steve whispered, “Tell me about them. What were they like?”

“They were wonderful,” Alexander breathed, “The light of my life. Prioritizing my work over them was my life’s biggest mistake.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was heavily heavily inspired by hamdevil but i mixed it up a lil added my own spice and flavour

> **FOGGY**   
>  soo totally irrelevant question that you def dont need to read into which hogwarts house do you identify with? ravenclaw, slytherin or gryffindor?
> 
> **AHAM**   
>  You forgot Hufflepuff?
> 
> **FOGGY**   
>  if you were a hufflepuff id like let matt give me a tattoo   
>  if you had to choose if you had to choose
> 
> **AHAM**   
>  It’s a tie. Either Slytherin or Gryffindor.
> 
> **FOGGY**   
>  hmmm ill poll the office. ty for your input though ham
> 
> **AHAM**   
>  Anytime.

\----

“Why is Foggy asking me about Hogwarts houses?” Alexander asked, looking up from his laptop briefly. Karen was walking by and stopped in her tracks, blinking as she processed his words.

“He’s probably going to get you a jumper,” she said, “It’s tradition around here. Foggy and I are in Ravenclaw and Matt’s a Gryffindor.”

“What’s the occasion?” Alexander asked curiously, leaning forward.

“Christmas?” Karen said, bewildered, “Don’t tell me you forgot. I thought everyone in the seventeenth century was, like, super Catholic.”

“I mean, you’re not wrong,” Alexander said, “I still go church as often as I can, but, uh, I’ve been busy.”

“If you’re going to church how the hell- er, sorry, how the heck did you forget that Christmas is coming up?”

“I guess I lost track of the date,” Alexander said, surprised, “Strange. I’ve never forgotten about Christmas before.” 

“Really?” Karen asked in surprise, “I was under the impression that you were even more of a workaholic, uh, back in the day.”

“Betsey would always beg me to take a break for the holidays,” Alexander said nostalgically, “Even his excellency would insist.” Alexander sighed, playing with his pen (Another favourite new invention of his. Much more efficient and a lot fewer breaks for dipping quills).

“Well, I hope you’re ready for the office Christmas party,” Karen said, “You’re expected to come with some form of alcohol, we’re not really picky.”

“What’s everyone else bringing?” Alexander asked, “I don’t want to double up.”

“Well, Matt will bring whiskey, Foggy will probably bring beer and I’m going to bring vodka,” Karen says, “Someone has to bring the hard liquor.”

“Maybe I’ll ask Tony for a bottle of his wine,” Alexander mused, “He does have good taste.”

“Definitely ask Stark for some wine,” Karen agreed, “That man has good taste. Expensive. but still, good taste.”

“What day is the party?” Alexander asked, “Should I bring gifts?”

“We were going to do the twentieth.” Karen sat down in the rolling chair across from Alexander. “And you definitely don’t need to.”

“Got it. I’ll tell Tony,” Alexander said, “I’m sure he’ll be hosting some sort of party, so I’ll make sure they’re not on the same day.”

“Oh, yeah,” Karen agreed, “Please, take it from me. you don’t want to miss a Tony Stark party. Those things are like, legendary,” she said, leaning into the chair. Her eyes were unfocused as if she was already imagining the grandeur of the unannounced party. “Please, please, bring me back a gift bag.”

“You could just come with me?” Alexander offered, closing his laptop. “I mean, I’m sure Tony won’t mind.” Karen’s jaw dropped.

“You’re joking,” she said, “You’re playing with me and getting my hopes up.” Alexander shrugged.

“Tony loves a party,” he said, “He wouldn’t even notice an extra person if he didn’t want you there.”

“You are the best person here!” Karen declares. “Shit! I need a dress!”

\----

**karen p** _ @k_page _   
@adotham when were you going to tell me you made it on buzzfeed???? bit.ly/98yF

**A. Hamilton** _@adotham_   
@k_page Probably when I found out.

**Foggy Nelson** _ @foggy_nm _   
@adotham @k_page “20 Ways Alexander Hamilton is Already More Progressive than Republican Assholes” #king

**You Know Who I Am** _ @IronMan _   
@adotham arent you supposed to be working?

**A. Hamilton** _@adotham_   
@IronMan You and I both know that I can multitask like a motherfucker.

**Cap. Steve Rogers** _ @Cap_America _   
@IronMan Please don’t encourage him. Our coffee spending at the tower has multiplied by 10. Fury is starting to ask questions.

**A. Hamilton** _@adotham_   
Stand down Captain, that’s an order. Nobody touches the coffee supply.

**Cap. Steve Rogers** _ @Cap_America _   
Is that allowed? Can he do that?

**You Know Who I Am** _ @IronMan _   
as a lt. col. he def outranks a captain

**A. Hamilton** _@adotham_   
I’ll have you know that I served as Major General. He must take orders from me.

**You Know Who I Am** _ @IronMan _   
lmao steve youre like barely a real captain u had like one day of ‘training’

\----

Christmas was right around the corner and Alexander was wholly unprepared. 

Armed with a credit card he’d taken the quick trip to Grand Central for some gifts. He really, really did not want to be the one showing up to the party without a gift. These malls were a far cry from the stores he’d shopped in before he’d been resurrected. They were busier, with many more stores, all connected by a hall where consumers could walk. He was grateful for the mall’s indoor nature, it sheltered him from New York’s cold air. As he walked through the mall, he furrowed his eyebrows. Nothing he’d seen so far was very unique or grabbed his attention. 

He sighed, deciding to take a break from his searching and began looking around for some coffee. Navigating large shopping centers was exhausting. It was nothing like the marketplaces and small shops of the eighteenth century. For the most part, Alexander was enthralled about the speed and nuance of the present, but the business of the mall? It was draining.

Though the mall was full of patrons he was apprehensive at asking anyone for help. Most people bore a distressed expression, probably experiencing similar stress to Alexander as they shopped for last-minute gifts. He winced as a mother worked on controlling two toddlers while walking through the mall. He sympathized. He and Eliza had been blessed with many children, managing them all while in public had been… a challenge to say the least.

He scanned the mall. Finally, his eyes landed on a man sitting on one of the public benches. His face was obscured, looking down at his phone. He had dark hair, around the same length as Alexander’s own tied into a loose ponytail. He was wearing a knit sweater and jeans, not generally the attire of anyone threatening. Silently, Alexander sent a quick prayer that this man was sane and helpful, and approached him.

“Excuse me,” he said cautiously, “Could you give me a hand? I’m looking for some coffee, I’m afraid I don’t know my way around the mall.” The man blinked before realizing Alexander was talking to him. He turned his head, allowing Alexander to get a good look at the man’s face for the first time. His face was strikingly familiar, Alexander was sure he’d seen him before.

“Hamilton?” he asked, jaw-dropping.

“Ah, right,” Alexander winced. He’d almost forgotten that there was a large chance anyone he’d approached would’ve recognized him. An unfortunate oversight. “Yes. That’s me. I’m sorry, do I know you? I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve seen you before.”

“We haven’t met, no, but you’ve probably seen my face before,” the stranger replied, his words only furthered Alexander’s confusion. “I’m Lin-Manuel Miranda, the guy who wrote the show about you?” Alexander’s jaw dropped in shock. What were the chances?

“I have to say, I did not think this is where I would be meeting you for the first time,” Alexander admitted.

“Me neither,” Lin said, shrugging, “It’s an honour to meet you, Mr. Hamilton.”

“Call me Alexander, please,” he replied, shaking Lin’s hand firmly, “I know technically I’m almost fifty, but it still makes me feel old. Physically, at least, I’m only in my twenties. The only Mr. Hamilton is the one you play on stage.”

“Then, you have to call me Lin,” he insisted, “And, uh, what did you need again? Coffee?” Alexander flushed.

“Ah, yes, I’m afraid these malls are quite confusing,” he admitted, “I was looking for some gifts for my coworkers. Admittedly, I haven’t found anything that sparked my interest so I decided I’d take a break and get some coffee.”

“I’ll take you to the Starbucks,” Lin offered, “It’s not too far from here. We can talk?” A smile spread across Alexander’s face.

“That would be wonderful,” he said, “And I do have a couple of… comments about your work.”

“Oh really?” Lin stood up and began walking, leading Alexander through the mall. “Do tell.”

“First and foremost, I really do appreciate it,” Alexander declared, “It’s a wonderful piece of art. to know that this is how my legacy was preserved, it’s wonderful. I doubt that Madison’s life could’ve produced such a success.”

“From what I know about him I doubt it,” Lin agreed.

“I quite enjoyed it when Tony allowed me to listen to the soundtrack when I first woke up,” Alexander said, “Though it has made walking near the theatre quite difficult.”

“I can imagine,” Lin agreed, “In addition to whatever press may have come from your resurrection in the first place, my show definitely does not help.”

“Definitely,” Alexander agreed, “But I appreciate it. Your show's given me more of a platform. Now, people actually care about who I am, what I have to say.”

“People would’ve cared before,” Lin argued.

“Not as much as they do now,” Alexander countered, “Your show has made my name common knowledge, instead of just history students.” As much as the thought left a bitter taste in his mouth, it was true.

“Speaking of which have you actually seen the show?” Lin asked.

“I haven’t,” Alexander admitted “I’ve been wanting to go, but I’ve been working. I’ve started practicing law again.”

“Then I can definitely get you some tickets,” Lin said smiling, “Best seats in the house.” Alexander beamed at him.

“That would be wonderful,” he said, “Thank you so much, really.”

“Wait, you mentioned you needed gifts, right? For your coworkers?” Lin asked, “I can get them tickets too.”

“I can’t ask for you to do that,” Alexander said, frowning, “Surely you’d be losing quite a bit of money.”

“Dude, this show wouldn’t exist without you,” Lin said, “It’s least I can do. You, your story, it changed my life. I’ve got to thank you for that.”

“I’m guessing you won’t let me turn this down?” Alexander asked, amused. Lin smirked.

“Probably not,” he admitted.

“Thank you then,” Alexander said gratefully, “You just saved me from doing a lot more Christmas shopping.”

“No problem,” Lin said, smiling, “Here. You can pay me back by buying me a coffee.” He waved vaguely at the Starbucks. They’d arrived.

“Sounds good to me.”

\----

**Lin-Manuel Miranda** _ @Lin_Manuel _   
Met @adotham today at the mall! Small world! bit.ly/2oDFyrE

**A. Hamilton** _@adotham_   
It was wonderful to meet you @Lin_Manuel #MadeIt   
RT: Met @adotham today at the mall! Small world! bit.ly/2oDFyrE

**Foggy Nelson** _ @foggy_nm _   
@adotham I AM SO JEALOUS??????

**karen p** _ @k_page _   
@adotham you know how to use hashtags????

**A. Hamilton** _@adotham_   
i can fully type like a ‘normal’ person yall just expect more of me lmao cause im ‘educated’

**You Know Who I Am** _ @IronMan _   
#lethamiltontypelikeanormalperson2015

**A. Hamilton** _@adotham_   
ur hashtag is too long

**You Know Who I Am** _ @IronMan _   
nvm take away his rights

**A. Hamilton** _@adotham_   
u cant take away the rights i gave you hoe

\----

“By seniority, does that make the entire army your bitch?” Alexander blinked in surprise, his mind registering Tony’s words. The billionaire was sitting on the couch, leaning back lazily.

“What?” He and Tony had been relaxing after a long day of party planning; why was Tony bringing up his military rank?

“Because you were the Senior Officer of the United States army, right?” Tony asked, drumming his finger against the table thoughtfully.

“Yes,” Alexander confirmed.

“And since seniority is used to determine who has more power between people of the same rank, you would have the most seniority by a long shot,” Tony said. Alexander snorted. “So if you wanted to, could you just, like, order everyone around?” Alexander scrunched his nose in thought.

“I don’t think so,” he admitted, “I resigned from that position, like, four years before I died. I am a Major General, but there are three ranks above that: Lieutenant General, Army Chief of Staff and the General of the Army. So, I guess technically they’d outrank me. Why do you ask?” Tony shrugged.

“I was curious,” Tony said.

“Well, I don’t plan on re-entering the military,” Alexander said, sighing, “Unless, of course, they need strategic advice, then I’ll help. But active combat? I’m good, thanks.”

“I’m surprised,” Tony said, “According to that musical you were dying for any action.”

“Well, that was before I y'know, died,” Hamilton said dryly, “I had something to fight for, a legacy to build. Now? I don't need to do any of that. Hence, why I'm not super eager.”

“Right,” Tony said, “Forgot about that.”

“So this party,” Alexander said, returning the conversation to a more relevant line of thought, “Can I bring someone?”

“Ooh, are you getting some Hamilton?” Tony said suggestively, “I’m proud.” Alexander rolled his eyes.

“No, I’m bringing a coworker,” he said, “She’s accompanying me so I don’t die of boredom.”

“I’ll have you know that I find that very offensive,” Tony said, “My parties will definitely be more fun than any of that stuffy war and or government parties.”

“You’ve clearly never been to a party with Friedrich Von Steuben,” Alexander insisted, “His pantless parties were full of his pretty young men and expensive alcohol.”

“This party will have more pants, more expensive alcohol and I’ll see what I can do about the pretty young men if you’re into that.” Tony paused. “Mind you, I think you might be one of the pretty young men. Everyone else is like, at least, twenty years older than you. Well, older than you look, anyway.” Alexander rolled his eyes. 

“Nat’s not forty,” Alexander said, “She’s only like thirty-five. And! Steve and I are in the same boat here.”

“True,” Tony said, “But everyone else will be. Anyway, tell your lady friend she can come.”

“She’s not my lady friend,” Alexander insisted, “She’s my coworker.”

“Like Pepper,” Tony agreed, “My coworker.” Alexander rolled his eyes.

“You’re impossible,” he declared, “And that’s coming from me.”

“Ouch,” Tony said sarcastically, “That hurt. Right here.” As he spoke he poked his arc reactor.

“That doesn’t even make sense!”

\----

**Cap. Steve Rogers** _ @Cap_America _   
Celebrate the Christmas season with your family and friends! @adotham @IronMan bit.ly/qi83s

**Ellen Kale** _ @elliekelly _   
Was nobody going to tell me that founding father Alexander Hamilton and literal flag Steve Rogers live under the same roof?? And I was supposed to find out from a Christmas tweet??? Is that much America legal??   
RT: Celebrate the Christmas season with your family and friends! @adotham @IronMan bit.ly/qi83s

\----

Alexander sighed, stretching. He’d been working on this case for the past couple of hours. It should be open and shut, but sexism and the corrupt justice system were not making this easy for him.

“Foggy walked into Alexander’s office and frowned when he saw that he was still working.

“No more of that,” he declared, shutting Alexander’s computer. Alexander opened his mouth, already forming a retort. “None of that,” Foggy said, “I know you use Google Docs. That shit saves automatically. It’s party time, get your wine and come to Matt’s office.” Alexander rolled his eyes but reached under his desk where Tony’s wine was stowed. He grabbed the two bottles and followed Foggy out of his office towards Matt’s.

“That’s some good shit,” Foggy said, impressed, “Did you steal that from Stark?”

“I didn’t steal it, I asked if I could bring it,” Alexander said, “You brought the beer?” Foggy nodded, smiling. He lifted up the case proudly. 

“My gifts are already in there,” Foggy said, “You’re going to love it.”

“My gift is on my phone,” Alexander replied, “I think you guys will like it.”

“You didn't need to get us gifts,” Foggy said, “But thanks. I’m sure it’ll be good.”

“Pile in you two!” Karen said, “Let’s get drinking and exchange gifts, yeah?” Karen and Matt were sitting cross-legged on the floor, the drinks lined up. Beside each of them were small piles of gifts. Karen’s were all in matching blue snowflake paper, each wrapped neatly. Matt’s were in gift bags, appropriate since Alexander wasn’t actually sure a blind man could wrap presents on his own.

Foggy joined them on the floor, motioning for Alexander to do the same. Foggy stacked his presents on his opposite side.

The night was light-hearted and fun. The alcohol loosened everyone’s lips, letting conversations flow freely. Alexander acquired a Slytherin jumper from Foggy, a Columbia Law sweater from Matt and Ron Chernow’s  _ Alexander Hamilton _ from Karen. The latter of which he accepted laughing very loudly, announcing his intent to fix its mistakes.

“Okay!” Alexander said, stifling his giggles, “So- So, I have a great gift for  _ all  _ of you!” He pulled out his phone and opened his inbox. He married his eyes and focused, forwarding Lin’s email to his coworkers. He smiled proudly.

“Check your inbox.” Karen looked at him strangely and pulled her phone up to her face. Foggy followed suit, while Matt held the speaker up to his phone, while the robotic voice read the email for him.

“Forwarded email from Lin-Manuel Miranda,” the robot voice said, making Alexander smiled in triumph. “Subject: Hamilton Tickets.”

“You are magic Alexander Hamilton,” Foggy said, “Amazing.”

“Thank you,” Alexander said smugly, “Though, Matt, if you want something else, I get it. I wasn’t really sure-”

“Don’t worry about it Alex,” Matt said kindly, “I like musicals.” Alexander sighed in relief and beamed at his coworker.

“Good.”

“Well, if you ask me this calls for another round of shots!” Karen declared, pouring the vodka liberally into a couple of glasses. She passed them around. Foggy giggled.

“What’s so funny Foggy?” Alexander asked. Foggy just laughed harder. Sometime sit looked like he was trying to speak, but then he’d break into another peel of laughter.

“I- I,” he laughed, keeling over.

“Well, spit it out,” Karen said, still holding her shot high.

Foggy laughed. “I am not throwing away my shot!”

\----

**AHAM**   
How’s it going this morning?

**KAREN**   
how r u tyypping 

**KAREN**   
my brain is brockenn

**AHAM**   
I joined the army when I was twenty and started drinking like a soldier. And then I had to wake up the next day and fight with congress over our rights.

**AHAM**   
TL;DR I can get over a hangover real quick.

**KAREN**   
i h8 people like you wtf 

**AHAM**   
I’ll buy you coffee? We can get breakfast?

**KAREN**   
i hate you slightly less

**KAREN**   
meet me at the breakfast place on fourth?

**AHAM**   
Alexa’s?

**KAREN**   
thats the 1

**AHAM**   
See u there

\----

**CNN Breaking News** _@cnnbrk_  
Christmas Nightmare! Alexa’s Breakfast on Fourth Avenue attacked by a gang. Authorities on the way. cnn.it/983ryhDW

**Foggy Nelson** _ @foggy_nm _   
wait what’s going on? #alexason4th

**Ned** _ @nedtrek _   
a bunch of guys (like 5 of them) with weapons and stuff went to the restaurant and one of them has a gun. threatening to start shooting if they dont get what they want #alexason4th   
RT: wait what’s going on? #alexason4th

**Rick Yang** _ @rickylikesstarwars _   
Im at the scene rn and one of them def as superpowers he flew through a window oh god #alexason4th   
RT: a bunch of guys (like 3 of them) with weapons and stuff went to the restaurant and one of them has a gun. threatening to start shooting if they dont get what they want #alexason4th

**Foggy Nelson** _ @foggy_nm _   
Stay safe everyone. #alexason4th

**You Know Who I Am** _ @IronMan _   
Cap and I are heading in. #alexason4th

\----

“We want a guarantee that nobody will come after us!” The robber was yelling into a burner phone. There’s a gun in his hand, the safety was clicked off. He’s waving it around erratically and Alexander doesn’t doubt he’ll use it. There are two other men, circling around the other hostages. One of them is floating, threatening him. There were about ten civilians in the restaurant including him and Karen. 

“For fuck’s sake it really can’t be that hard to do.”

“Calm down man,” one of the gunmen said, “It’ll be fine. Just chill out for a second.”

“We literally have hostages and you’re asking me to chill out?” The guys snapped.

“Dude it probably takes a second,” said the floating one, “I mean, they got to wire it to the accounts, right? That’s probably not a really fast process.”

“You should listen to Superman,” Alexander quipped, “He’s the smart one.”

“Shut the fuck up man,” said Gunman number one. Alexander rolled his eyes. 

“What are you gonna do, shoot me?” he asked sarcastically, “Hate to say it, don’t think it’s going to do much.”

“Listen here you piece of shit.” Gunman number two wound his fist back and swung. As the fist approached his face, Alexander’s world was moving in slow motion. He caught the man’s fist. The man looked at him in shock. “What the fuck?” Alexander smiled at him. He pulled the guy’s fist forward, knocking him off balance and pinning him to the floor. Alexander smiled and kicked him to the ground. He moved on to Gunman number one, pulling him towards Alexander’s body, easily making the Gunman join his buddy unconscious on the floor.

“Kneel,” Superman demanded pointing Gunman number one’s discarded pistol at Alexander. He was shaking, much more nervous without the help of his buddies. Alexander raised an eyebrow.

“I’d really rather not Superman,” he said, “Just drop the gun, okay? If you don’t actually hurt anyone your sentence will be a lot better. Trust me, I’m a lawyer.”

“I know who you are!” Superman snapped. He was shaking. Alexander took a deep breath and steeled his nerves. This was fine. He’d stared down the barrel of a gun before, he can do it again. 

“Put the gun down,” Alexander said, raising a hand in the effort to calm him, “Please.” Superman scowled.

“Don’t tell me what to do!” The gunshot rang through the restaurant. Alexander gasped in a mixture of pain and shock. The motherfucker shot him.

“Alexander!” Karen’s voice snapped him out of shock. Surprisingly, the shoulder wound definitely did not hurt as much as it should. Sure, it burned, but it hadn't ripped through him the way it had in the past. He shook it off, turning back towards Superman.

“You piece of shit,” Alexander hissed, swung his fist at Superman. Thankfully the guy didn’t see it coming, still in shock that Alexander was still standing. With the upper hand, Alexander grabbed Superman’s hand and swung him across the room. Superman slammed into the far wall falling to the ground in an unconscious heap. He looked at his arms in shock. Did he do that?

“Alexander,” Karen asked shakily, “Oh my God, are you okay?” She ran up to him examining his shoulder. “Shit, Alex he shot you.” 

“Who was shot?” Tony’s voice entered the room. Alexander rolled his eyes. Of course, after all the fighting Tony showed up. Just his luck.

“Me,” he grunted, “It’s not that bad. Actually it doesn't really hurt.”

“I hate to remind you but you died from a gunshot last time around,” Tony scolded, “Come with me. The medics are already outside. The police will handle the rest.” Tony grabbed Alexander’s arm with the uninjured soldier dragging him out of the restaurant. The action was oddly reminiscent of when Washington would drag Alexander out of fights with other soldiers. Alexander grumbled as Tony dragged him to the ambulance.

“Did you have to provoke him?” Tony pestered, "Like come on. I'm sure they taught you some sort of de-escalation."

“It’s not that bad,” Alexander insisted, “Honestly. I don’t even feel it. Can you make sure Karen is okay?”

“I’ll check on her,” Steve volunteered. Alexander nodded to Steve in thanks as he walked back towards the restaurant. Bruce walked up to him, examining the shoulder wound.

“Fascinating,” he muttered, “Your body is healing itself. We suspected that you’d have accelerated healing, but we weren’t sure if it was just leftover from your resurrection.”

“Must be the Asgardian,” Tony declared.

“Would the Asgardian also explain how I threw a man against a wall?” Alexander said, wincing. “Cause that sort of happened.”

“Yeah, we so gotta get Thor at this Christmas party,” Tony said, sighing.


	4. Chapter 4

Alexander sighed in relief as he escaped a group of historians. Tony’s Christmas party had been going for a couple of hours at this point. As he walked by a mirror he took a quick glance at his reflection. Several hairs had slipped out of Alexander’s once neat ponytail somewhere along the way. He readjusted his suit jacket. Though the combination of a black suit jacket, dress pants, a dark green button-up was far from as formal as the overcoat and cravat he’d once worn, it was far fancier than his normal twenty-first century day wear.

He sighed, making his way back towards the bar. On his way, he spotted one of the waiters holding a small tray of champagne. He thanked a waiter silently, swiping a flute from their tray. Near the bar, he spotted Karen drinking an expensive-looking glass of scotch. 

“How’s it going?” He stood next to her, leaning against the bar.

“Good.” Karen leaned closer to him in an effort to be heard over the party chatter. “Good booze, smart company, what more can I ask for?” She laughed lightly. “I’m just taking a little break. How about you, Ham?”

Alexander sighed sipping from his flute of champagne.

“Same here,” he replied, “Though, there are only so many times I can talk about how I felt when signing the constitution before even I begin to tire.”

“Is that all they’re interested in?” Karen asked, bewildered, “I feel like there are more interesting things to ask you about.” Alexander shrugged, leaning against the bar.

“They’re a little hung up on history.” Karen nodded in understanding.

“Can’t really blame them.” Karen shrugged, taking a long sip of scotch.

“I guess not,” he agreed. Karen examined his expression. She narrowed her eyes.

“You’re on edge,” she declared, “What’s up?”

“I have to admit I’m getting a little impatient,” Alexander said, “Thor is supposed to be arriving soon. He’s bringing back pictures of people who could be my father.” Karen’s jaw dropped. Though Alexander’s tone was casual he felt himself brimming with anticipation. However, he wasn’t sure if he was anticipating a reunion or a fight.

“You’re joking.” Alexander shook his head.

“After the… incident at the restaurant a couple of days ago Tony invited him,” Alexander explained, “It seems like my resurrection may have reawakened some inane Asgardian abilities.”

“Like when you threw the guy at the wall?” Alexander hummed in agreement, taking another sip from his flute. “Yeah, gotta say I was not expecting that.”

“Me neither,” Hamilton admitted, “It was an… unexpected development.”

“To say the least,” Karen said, “I mean you literally threw a man across a room without breaking a sweat.” Hamilton threw the remains of his champagne down his throat in response.

“Would’ve been helpful during the war,” he mused, “I imagine Washington would’ve been more eager to give me my command should I have discovered this part about myself before.”

“You mean the part where you shrugged off that gunshot?” Karen snorted. Alexander rolled his eyes but felt a smile playing at his lips. “How’s the shoulder by the way?”

“It’s fine,” he replied. He rolled it in demonstration for good measure. “All back in working order.” Karen hummed, placing her empty scotch glass on the bar. She thanked the bartender quietly as he refilled it. Thunder cracked outside, making Alexander wince involuntarily. Even lifetimes later the hurricane of his youth haunted his psyche. He forced himself to calm down as Thor landed loudly on Tony’s balcony.

“Nice entrance Point Break,” Tony said loudly, “Welcome to the party!”

“Thank you, Stark!” Thor replied at an equal volume. He smiled widely revealing a mouth of perfectly straight white teeth. He winked at Tony and began scanning the crowd stopping when he locked eyes with Alexander. “But first! Business!”

Tony’s eyes followed Thor’s gaze, landing on Alexander.

“Right,” he said waving him off, “But don’t forget to come back, yeah?”

“Of course,” Thor said. His voice boomed across the party floor. As the Asgardian entered the crowd the party chatter resumed.

“So that’s Thor?” Karen asked, whispering quietly in Alexander’s ear.

“Mhm,” Alexander hummed. He traded his empty flute for a full one as another waiter passed by. 

“He’s hot.” Alexander rolled his eyes.

“Astute observation Kay,” he replied. She slapped him playfully.

“Hey!” she said, “Don’t be like that. It’s true.”

“Well, yes, obviously,” Alexander sighed, “But he’s a god. I think the looks are part of the package.” She rolled her eyes lightheartedly. Alexander took a sip from his champagne, smiling as Thor approached the bar.

“Alexander,” Thor greeted, “Who is your friend?”

“I’m Karen,” she said, shaking his hand, “Alex and I work together at the same firm.” She was blushing slightly. Alexander raised an eyebrow. She shoved his shoulder slightly.

“I see,” Thor said kindly, oblivious to their interaction. “Well, I have returned with some photographs for Alexander to examine.” He presented Hamilton with a folder filled with seven photos, small descriptions scrawled on the backs of each.

“So my father is among these seven?” Alexander asked curiously. Thor nodded. 

“According to what you have shared with me regarding your father and the details regarding your newfound abilities, these are the only seven Asgardians who could’ve fathered you.” 

Alexander nodded in thanks. He opened the folder gingerly. The first three were easy nos, they were much too broad. James Hamilton has been a thin man, much like Alexander himself. The next two’s hair wasn’t quite right, they had curls whereas James had straight dark hair. The sixth wasn’t him either, the nose was much too large. Finally, Alexander looked at the seventh photo. The man was thin-faced, with high cheekbones and a pronounced nose. He had thin lips and slight under-eye circles. Alexander held the photo to eye level. He sucked in a breath.

“This is him,” he declared, passing the folder back to him. “I know it.” Thor paled and Karen gasped as they each got a better look at Hamilton’s father. Alexander frowned, clearly he was missing something. “Is something wrong?”

“This is what I feared,” Thor muttered, “I must return to Asgard.” He turned around quickly and began walking back towards the balcony.

“Thor, wait!” Alexander said, “What’s wrong? Who is my father? What did he do?” Thor didn’t respond but did slow down, looking at Alexander regretfully. Behind him, he felt Karen’s hands on his shoulders, shaking.

“Alex,” Karen’s voice shook as she spoke. “Your father tried to destroy Manhattan.” Alexander whipped around to face her.

“What?” Alexander paled. “You can’t be serious.” Karen nodded grimly.

“Three years ago, in 2012.” She said, “The city was practically destroyed. He brought aliens through a portal.” Alexander felt himself stiffen against the bar. He swallowed, but it felt like a rock had settled in his stomach.

“He’s also my brother,” At the sound of the god's voice Alexander faced him. Thor was frowning, his eyebrows furrowed together in concern. “Welcome to the family, nephew.” Alexander sighed, rubbing his eyes.

“I’m going to need something stronger than champagne.”

——

**BuzzFeed** _ @BuzzFeed _   
Thor makes a surprise appearance at @IronMan’s Christmas Party bit.ly/72bs8

**You Know Who I Am** _ @IronMan _   
christmas is a family affair ;)   
RT: Thor makes a surprise appearance at @IronMan’s Christmas Party bit.ly/72bs8

——

“Loki, silver-tongued master of deception,” Tony read the back of the photograph before sighing. He looked up Alexander. “I wish I could’ve said I saw this coming.” The morning after Tony’s party is quiet. At the moment it was just him, Tony and Steve sitting around the breakfast table. Alexander stared into his coffee, half expecting a message to appear in the dark liquid.

Tony lifted the photo next to Alexander’s face. He furrowed his eyebrows as he looked between them, presumably trying to find their similarities. 

“Hey, you guys have the same nose!” Tony smiled proudly that he’d found a relation between the two. Alexander rolled his eyes, rubbing his nose self-consciously. Tony put the photo back on the table. Steve frowned, picking it up.

“And you’re sure it’s him?” Steve asked, ignoring Tony. The captain held the photo up to eye-level, so Alex could get a better look at it. Alexander sighed looking at it more closely. James Hamilton looked the same way he’d looked that morning he’d left them in 1767. Dark hair, pale skin and judgemental green eyes. There was no denying it, that was James Hamilton.

“Positive,” Alexander replied, “That’s my father.”

“Well, Thor is bringing him here to meet you,” Tony sighed, “He’ll have to be handcuffed cause of the whole tried-to-destroy-the-city thing but it’ll be fine.”

“Right,” Alexander winced. Tony’s words were a reminder that James Hamilton,  _ Loki _ , whoever he was, had much worse crimes than ditching his family. Than ditching him. He shook his head, clearing his thoughts.

“Look on the bright side,” Tony said, “You’re technically royalty now. Y’know, son of the prince and all that.” 

“That’s true,” Alexander amended. That was one development that wasn’t completely awful.

He drummed his finger against the table, looking out Tony’s window for any sign of the Asgardian brothers. Thor was due to arrive any minute now. 

“Mind you, Loki is adopted and kind of a villain so not a hundred percent sure your royal blood is even valid.” Alexander sighed.

“Of course,” Alexander sighed, “Makes sense. Mind you, I was never one for the monarchy, so I’m not too disappointed.”

“Oh, we know that,” Tony said, “Act one of Hamilton tells me everything I need to know how much you like a revolution.”

Alexander rolled his eyes, holding his head in his hands, leaning against the table. Tony sighed walking to make some more coffee. The trio sits there without talking, leaving Alexander’s thoughts to fill their silence.

His leg was bouncing, a telltale sign of his worry. It was a nervous tick that had followed him from the eighteenth century. It’d make itself known whenever he was nervous or unsure. Eliza used to place her hand on his knee in comfort, she’d never failed in calming him down and reassuring him.

Not for the first time, his heart aches for his wife. If only she could be here with him. Eliza had always made everything better.

A patch of the sky lit up, rainbow colours sweeping through the clouds. Lightning flashed across the otherwise clear winter sky. Alexander felt his heart beating in his throat.

“That would be them,” Steve said, standing up. Alexander followed him towards the balcony. There was a loud crack of thunder before Thor landed. He was holding a man. He was pale, with oil-slick dark shoulder-length hair. Alexander’s father. The man’s hands were tied behind his back. Tony came up from behind him, squeezing Alexander’s hand in comfort.

“You got this man,” he whispered. Alexander smiled at him weakly. Somehow he was beginning to doubt that. Alexander took a deep breath. He steeled his nerves as he walked towards the balcony.

“Thor, what am I doing here?” his father, no,  _ Loki,  _ hissed, “Why won’t you tell me anything?” Alexander watched curiously, still out of sight. Loki was glaring at Thor. His hands were cuffed behind his back. As he approached the two men on the balcony he got a better look at his father. Despite his supposed prisoner status, he was wearing expensive-looking robes with gold and intricate stitching. His hair was styled and he was well-groomed.

“Peace brother,” Thor mumbled, “Trust me.” Loki rolled his eyes. Deciding not to stall any longer, Alexander stepped out onto the balcony and into view. For the first time in centuries, he made eye contact with his father. 

James Hamilton’s eyes were the same green they’d always been if not a little more tired. Memories of his childhood in Saint Croix flashed through Alexander’s mind. The drunken nights and hurtful words that had stained his childhood came rushing back through his mind. Alexander’s breath was caught in his throat.

As they stared at each other he watched curiously as his father’s appearance changed right before his eyes. Lines creased the skin around his eyes and mouth, and silver appeared in his hair; he’d gained about fifteen years in two seconds. He was the age he would’ve been according to Alexander’s twenty-something state. The handcuffs disappeared. Loki glanced at Thor, who nodded; a silent conversation going on between the two men.

“Alexander.” James Hamilton’s voice alone sent a shiver through his body. Alexander straightened his spine.

“Father,” Alexander spoke softly if a little confused. Behind him, he saw Steve and Tony's retreat leaving him to stand on his own. Loki looked him up and down and approached him slowly.

“I see you made it off of that wretched island,” he said hesitantly, “I’m impressed. You made quite the name for yourself.” James Hamilton’s words caught Alexander off-guard. Should he have expected more? He went on the defensive.

“No thanks to you,” Alexander spat, “You left maman and me to rot.”

“I had to leave,” Loki insisted, “To protect you.” Alexander rolled his eye.

“Didn’t do a good job with that one,” he retorted, “Maman died and you did nothing.”

“You look like her,” Loki mused, ignoring Alexander’s anger, “You always have. Have her pretty face.” His father reached to touch Alexander’s face. He flinched and took a step back.

“Thank Providence for that,” Alexander snapped.

“But you always had that temper,” Loki continued as if he hadn’t heard Alexander, “I’m afraid you take after my brother there.” He smiled at Alexander, while he pointed at Thor who was watching the interaction hesitantly. “That’s my fault.” Alexander felt his anger bubbling in his throat.

“I don’t know why I thought I’d want to see you,” Alexander said bitterly, “Apparently I’ve forgotten that the only thing you’ve ever done is disappoint me.”

“That’s not fair Alexander,” Loki interjected, “I did what was best for you.” Alexander rolled his eyes. 

“There it is again,” he said, “Always thinking that you’re above everyone else. You and your fucking god complex.” Alexander paused, realizing the irony. He laughed emptily. “But I guess it’s not really complex, is it?” Loki didn’t respond, instead, reaching to touch Alexander. He flinched backwards. “Don’t touch me.” Loki nodded, taking a slow step back. He raised his hands in surrender.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “But do you really think I forgot about you?”

“Of course you did,” Alexander said, “I tried to contact you. Even after the war, you  _ never  _ responded.”

“I couldn’t respond, son,” Alexander winced at the endearment, “I wasn’t on earth, I had returned to Asgard.” Loki approached Alexander hesitantly. “I watched your progress, watched you rise through the ranks. Son, please-“

“Don’t call me that,” Alexander snapped, “I am not your son.”

“Then whose son are you?” Loki raised an eyebrow in challenge.

“The only man who’d ever treated me like a father is buried in Virginia,” Alexander felt himself tearing up. He took a deep breath. “He was more of a father than you could ever be. At least he was there.” The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on him. Alexander had spent all his life rejecting Washington’s attempts at a familial relationship, wishing his father would come back. Now he was wishing for the opposite; he was mourning what he could’ve had.

“He’s not here now, is he?” Loki raised an eyebrow in challenge.

“That’s hardly a fair comparison,” Alexander protested, “He’s dead.” Even though Washington’s been gone for years saying the words out loud still squeezes Alexander’s heart.

“And I was on a different planet,” Loki insisted, “I couldn’t control that.” Alexander paused. Loki’s tone was sincere, pleading Alexander to listen to him. “You’re smart, Alexander. I’ve always known that. Too smart for your own good to be frank. So use that brilliant mind of yours and listen to me.” Alexander took a deep breath, grounding himself. He stared at Loki, taking in his desperate appearance.

“You’re a bad father.” Loki winced, Alexander almost felt bad.

“I know,” he said, “But let me try to be a good one.” Alexander hesitated. Loki’s expression was sincere, regret tinged every part of his expression.

“Let’s make a deal,” Alexander proposed.

“I don’t know if you should do that Ham,” Tony said, speaking up for the first time, “Do you remember the part about him being silver-tongued?” He sent him a wary look.

“It’s okay, Tony,” Alexander reassured him, “I got this.” He refocused on Loki. “You help me figure out this new Asgardian…” he trailed off looking for the right word. “Skillset. In return, I give you a chance. The moment you step out of line you’re going back to whatever prison he was pulled out of.”

“That’s hardly a fair deal,” Loki countered, frowning.

“That’s the point,” Alexander said, “If you really want to be a good father it’s about making sacrifices for your children.” The smiling faces of Alexander’s own children flashed through his mind. His expression softened. “Trust me. I would know.” Loki furrowed his eyebrows in thought. For a moment Alexander thought he would turn him down and leave him all over again.

“Fine,” he agreed, “When should we start?”

——

**CNN Breaking News** _ @cnnbrk _   
Supervillain Loki spotted following @adotham. Could the villain be plotting a kidnapping of America’s Founding Father? bit.ly/8hwh62

——

When Alexander had made the deal he hadn’t quite realized what he was agreeing to. 

Loki followed him constantly, most of the time in awkward silence. Occasionally there would be the odd snarky comment (normally about another person's choice of attire) but other than that Loki had surprisingly let Alexander do most of the talking. He’d gotten some odd looks in the beginning (Especially that one news article, that was quite worrying), so his father had taken to following Alexander in the shadows, mostly out of sight. It’d taken some getting used to admittedly. Alexander training in the war had made him acutely aware of his surroundings, someone following him at all times was really throwing him off. However, this at least allowed Alexander to pretend everything was normal. His mantra for his father was simple: out of sight out of mind. The one exception for this was his lessons with his father.

So far, Loki has taught him to control his inhuman strength and the beginnings of basic magic. The former was much less exciting but crucial. Magic, however, was wondrous. It was small things, mostly summoning and small illusions. His father was a surprisingly good teacher. He was excited by Alexander’s success and advancements in the subject.

As much as Alexander hated to admit it, he couldn’t deny it, the magic was exhilarating. His blood singed with this new power. It was like riding a high, addicting. Alexander found himself using magic for meaningless tasks; summoning his laptop and lighting up the room were amongst the more frequent magics.

Alexander found magic at the office especially helpful. He could have his laptop in his lap as soon as inspiration hit. Or, like right now, as he summoned the salad Tony had packed him for lunch. It zipped into his hand, flying from his work bag into the lunchroom.

“That’s crazy man,” Foggy said, “I can’t believe you can do magic.” He leaned forward, examining the salad as if that was the key to Alexander’s new abilities.

He just shrugged in response, opening his Tupperware. The office was one of the only places Loki chose not to follow him too. He was not a fan of “working amongst the mortals.” This made work one of the only places where he could really be alone, where he could focus. Finding solace in his work was one of the consistent things with his new life here and his old life.

“It’s just small things for now,” he replied.

“Modesty,” Foggy said, raising an eyebrow, “I’m surprised, Ham. You don’t seem like the type. Actually, I specifically remember Jefferson insulting you about it on the musical’s soundtrack.” Alexander rolled his eyes while Foggy laughed light-heartedly.

“Jefferson, in the musical and real life, is and was a dick,” he replied “Besides, it's true. I’m not very good yet.”

“It’s still pretty cool,” Karen said, joining them in the break room, “You’re picking it up quick.” She sat down next to him at the table, pulling out a thermos. 

“I’ve always been a quick study,” Alexander admitted unashamedly, “My dad knows that. I remember that I used to annoy him when I read at night. He always told me my candle was too bright. Uh, anyway, he’s been pushing me to learn more, faster.” Alexander sighed, thinking about their lessons. They were strange. Oddly, they had chemistry, but every time they got close Alexander remembered the James Hamilton of his youth.

“So what  _ is _ he like?” Foggy asked, leaning on his elbows. “Is he anything like you remember?” Alexander shrugged picking at the salad Tony had packed him for lunch. The billionaire practically mothered him, like he was sending him off to school for the day. In any fashion, he acted more like a parent than Loki ever had.

“It’s strange,” he admitted, “He’s quieter now. When I was a child he’d yell at my mother and me all the time. He was always impatient and demanding.” Alexander sighed in thought. “He’s different now. Apprehensive, like he’s scared he’ll break me. Part of me thinks it’s because of our deal but the other part thinks it’s because of just how long it’s really been.” He looked out the window chewing thoughtfully. “I guess for him it really has been two hundred years. I spent most of our time apart dead. He’s nice enough to me most of the time.” Foggy frowned, drawing his eyebrows together in confusion.

“To you?” he asked, “Like, just you?”

“Well, he’s still an asshole to most other people we talk to,” Alexander admitted, “But I think he feels guilty about me, so he wants to make it up to me or whatever.”

“I mean, it could be worse,” Karen said, “He wants to be with you.” She dipped her spoon into her thermos scooping some chilli out.

“That’s the new part of all this,” Alexander admitted, “Back then, he wanted nothing to do with me. He pretty much left me to fight for myself all while talking about how great he was.” Alexander rolled his eyes, sighing. “But, now? He doesn’t say shit about himself, like c’mon. All I know about him is he knocked my mom up and then ditched her when I was too much.” The three of them sat in silence. Alexander picked at his slightly wilted kale.

“Well, from what you’re saying he sounds better than I thought,” Karen said, “I thought he was going to be a homicidal maniac.” Alexander rolled his eyes good-naturedly as Foggy and Karen laughed.

“Thanks, Kay,” he said, “I appreciate the faith in my bloodline.” She raised her hands in surrender, shrugging.

“I mean, even before I knew who your dad was, he sounded like an asshole,” she reasoned.

“That’s true,” Foggy agreed, nodding, “Deadbeats are dicks.” He bit into his sandwich, chewed knowingly.

“Agreed,” Alexander sighed into his salad. The leaves were sad and wilted from being packed in his work bag all morning. He frowned into them, not exactly appetizing. The law firm’s front door opened with a creak and Matt stumbled through. He had a nasty bruise blooming on his jaw and a small cut just under his eye. 

“Matt?” Alexander asked, standing up to meet him at the door, “What happened?” Alexander traces the bruise with his fingers lightly. He frowned in concern.

“I bumped into a door,” Matt replied, he shrugged, “I’m fine, don’t worry about it.” He attempted to push past Alexander who stepped in front of him. Matt frowned at him. 

“Your face is a mess,” Alexander whispered, “Are you okay?” He cupped Matt’s face with his hand, dragging his thumb across his face.

“I’m  _ fine _ Ham,” Matt insisted, taking Alexander’s hand from his face. “Really. Now let me through, work doesn’t wait.” Alexander furrowed his eyebrows in worry.

“Did bumping into a door take up your whole lunch break?” Karen asked in disbelief. She glanced at her watch. “It’s five to one.” She stood up, joining Alexander at the door. She crossed her arms in concern. 

“It was a big door,” Matt said, brushing past them. “Listen. What matters now is that I’m here, yeah? So let’s finish up and get to work.” Alexander sighed and cleaned up his partly eaten salad. 

——


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> translations are linked to footnotes.

Alexander had never liked doctors. To him, Doctors had only been omens of death. This dislike was only expanded by the fact that in the twenty-first century apparently regular check-ups were expected.

“I’m going to need you to take off your shirt.” Alexander raised an eyebrow.

“Not that I’m opposed to this turn of events,” he said, “But what the fuck?” Strange sighed, rolling his eyes.

“Not like that,” he said, affronted, “I need to use the stethoscope and make sure your gunshot wound is healing properly.”

“Oh, got it,” Alexander said, “Right.” He pulled his shirt over his head.

“Great,” Strange said, he gestured to the examination table, “Sit on top of here.”Alexander complied, hopping on top. “Okay, now let me see that shoulder.” Alexander’s gunshot wound had healed peculiarly. Not badly, just strange. In the beginning, it had healed quickly, but it didn’t scar. It mostly looked like a scab. Unlike the shoulder, his mortal wound, the one Aaron Burr had given him on that July morning had scarred normally, still a little pink around the edges. Apparently even Asgardian magic couldn’t make that fade, physically or mentally.

Strange prodded at it gently with a gloved finger.

“It’s healing well,” he said, “Honestly it looks more like a scrape than a gunshot wound. I don’t think it’ll scar.” Strange hummed, bringing the cold stethoscope up to Alexander’s heart. “Take a deep breath for me. In. Out.” Alexander followed his instructions, breathing slowly. “Good.” Strange took the stethoscope off of his heart and placed it on the small of his back. “Breathe.” Alexander complied. Steven hummed, took off the stethoscope and placed it back into the tray amongst other medical tools. The next thing he grabbed was like a strip of fabric.

“What’s that?”

“It’s a blood pressure cuff,” Strange explained, “It’ll just tell me your blood pressure.” He wrapped the cuff around Alexander’s bicep. He squeezed a pump attached to the fabric, making it tighter, he looked at his arm strangely.

“Feels weird, right?” Strange muttered, scribbling something down on a notepad.

“Yeah,” Alexander agreed. Strange took the cuff off his bicep, placing it on the side.

“Okay,” Strange sighed, “Open your mouth.” Alexander opened his mouth slightly. “Wider.” Alexander complied. “Good.” Strange put a wooden popsicle stick on Alexander’s tongue, pushing it down slightly. He hummed and then scribbled something into his notebook.

“Last step, okay?” Strange grabbed a metal rod with a black triangular piece on the end.

“What is-?”

“This is an otoscope,” Strange said, “I’m going to use it to look in your ear.” Alexander took a double-take, blinking. 

“Why do you need to look in my ear?”

“I’m just checking for potential ear infections or other problems,” Strange said, “Now, turn your head.” Alexander complied, crinkling his nose when Strange put the device in his ear. After a couple of seconds, he took it out. “Other side.” Again, Alexander complied. Finally, Strange finished and put the otoscope back in with the other medical equipment.

“Is that everything?” Alexander asked, “Can I put my shirt back on?”

“We’re not quite done yet but you can put your shirt back on,” Strange said. Alexander sighed, pulling his shirt back over his head. “You're dehydrated. You need to drink at least seven litres a day. Almost twice the amount normal humans need to drink but that’s because of your Asgardian nature.”

“Seven litres?” Alexander gawked. Strange nodded. “Fucking hell.”

“You should still be eating more than an average human as well,” he continued, “I’d suggest more protein, lean meats.” Alexander nodded, not really listening.

“Great, can I go now?” Strange rolled his eyes.

“Yes, you can go,” he said, “But don’t forget what I told you, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, water, chicken, yadda, yadda,” Alexander hopped off of the examination table. “See ya Strange!”

He walked out of the medical wing and towards the elevator. He pressed the up button, the elevator arriving almost instantly. Tony’s elevator music of choice today was seventies pop, James Brown playing softly. He pressed the button for their private floor, he was thinking of just sitting in the living room, maybe read another classic he'd missed. The elevator doors pinged as they opened and Alexander was surprised to see the living room wasn’t empty. Natasha was sitting at the counter, sipping from a cup of coffee. Alexander had only met Natasha once when he’d first woken up. They never really had the chance to talk, Alexander was admittedly still out of it and she had a left for a mission. 

“Miss Romanoff?” 

“Hello Mister Hamilton,” she said, “How are you?”

“I’m good, uh, call me Alex, please,” he said, stepping into the living room, “How are you?”

“If I’m going to call you Alex I insist you call me Natasha,” she said smoothly, “And I’m good.”

“I don’t mean to be rude but-”

“Why am I here?” Alexander nodded. “I finished my mission.”

“I see,” Alexander said, “And how are you enjoying your time back from the field?” She shrugged. 

“It is what it is,” she said, “Normal. How have you been adjusting? I’ve seen a couple of your BuzzFeed articles. You seem to be doing well.”

“I think I have, yes,” Alexander said, “I actually have a… publicity thing with Tony and Steve. Do you think it could help me pick out what to wear?” Natasha smiled.

“What do you have in mind?”

\----

 **The Tonight Show** _@FallonTonight_  
@adotham, @IronMan and @Cap_America come to the show to discuss this past year. Don’t miss it tonight at 11 PM Eastern/10 PM Central!

 **A. Hamilton** _@adotham_  
I hope the world is ready for my opinion.  
RT:@adotham, @IronMan and @Cap_America come to the show to discuss this past year. Don’t miss it tonight at 11 PM Eastern/10 PM Central!

 **Cap. Steve Rogers** _@Cap_America_  
@adotham Does it really matter if the world is ready?

 **A. Hamilton** _@adotham_  
@Cap_America No, not really.

 **You Know Who I Am** _@IronMan_  
@Cap_America @adotham lmao it's going to be wild

\----

“As we all know, the year is coming to a close,” Jimmy Fallon smiled charmingly, leaning forward, shifting his weight on his desk, “And, man has it been quite a doozy. A lot happened, and really, it was a little much for just one person to talk about.” He paused for applause. “So tonight, we have three guests here with me today to help tackle the beast that was 2015.” At Jimmy’s cue, Steve, Tony and Alexander stepped onto the stage, smiling widely. Steve in a pleasantly tight button-up, Tony in a t-shirt and blazer and Alexander was wearing Natasha’s choice: a loose, patterned button-up and dress pants. Steve’s broad shoulders made it difficult but they squeezed onto the couch.

“Hey there Jimmy,” Tony said, “We have a lot to talk about.” The crowd burst into another round of quiet applause.

“I have to agree,” Steve said, “2015 was busy, especially for New York.”

“I mean, the portal to another galaxy?” Jimmy said rhetorically, “That was wild! Aliens, flying across the city!”

“Yeah, it was crazier up close,” Tony said, “Especially the part where I flew into space.”

“Yes,” Steve agreed, nodding, “I was not expecting you to bounce back from that one.”

“Yeah, you fell like two hundred feet!” Jimmy agreed, “You came out without a scratch.”

“I wouldn’t say without a scratch,” Tony said, “But yes. Fit as a fiddle.”

“You told me that saying went out of use!” Steve said, “did you lie to me?”

“I don’t know, Steve,” Alexander said, speaking up for the first time, “I’ve never heard that one before.”

“Steve are you more behind in sayings than Hamilton?” Jimmy asked.

“Oh definitely,” Tony said, “Ham here is fantastic at picking up on new slang.”

“Speaking of which,” Alexander cleared his throat, “I feel like we’re avoiding the elephant in the room right now.”

“You’re right,” Tony agreed, nodding sagely, “Hamilton.” Alexander sighed in relief.

“Yes.”

“The musical came out this year!” Alexander groaned.

“For fu-”

“Language!” Steve said sternly. “Alex, we’re on live television you can’t curse.”

“We can censor it,” Jimmy shrugged.

“I actually have an opinion on censorship-”

\----

> **KAREN**  
>  i had to find out you were on the tonight show from twitter?!?!!??!?
> 
> **AHAM**  
>  Sorry, Kay.  
> I'll tell you first next time?
> 
> **KAREN**  
>  you better.
> 
> **AHAM**  
>  I promise?
> 
> **KAREN**  
>  good. but there is some way you can make it up to me.
> 
> **AHAM**  
>  How can I do that?
> 
> **KAREN**  
>  just tell me one thing: did steve look better irl than on camera??? was the tight shirt good?
> 
> **AHAM**  
>  Yes and yes.
> 
> **KAREN**  
>  nice.
> 
> **AHAM**  
>  Indeed.

\----

“You want to do what now?” Alexander sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Did you really not hear me the first time?”

“No, no I heard you,” Tony said, “I just think you’re insane.” Alexander rolled his eyes.

“You think I’m insane because I want to invite my dad to our party?” he asked, crossing his arms across his chest, “Because that seems totally reasonable to me. Unless something about family has changed in the past two hundred years, it sounds like a totally normal thing to do.”

“No, I think you’re insane because you want to invite Loki, the guy who literally tried to destroy New York City earlier this year,” Tony said, “Are you, serious man?”

“I mean, I want to talk to him, properly,” Alexander said, shrugging, “I figured that a party would be the best way to, you know, open the proverbial floodgates.”

“Hold on, are you really sure about this?” Tony asked, “I hate to remind you, but the guy is an asshole!”

“It’s been two hundred years,” Alexander said, shrugging, “A lot can happen. People change.”

“Can I remind you again that he invaded the city earlier this year?”

“Ye of little faith Stark,” Alexander said, “It’s going to be fine. He told me he’d behave.”

“Acta non verba.”[1](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25696813/chapters/63922603#chapter_5_endnotes)

“I thought you told me people stopped using Latin in casual conversation,” Alexander said accusingly.

“They did,” Tony replied, “It just felt appropriate in this context.”

“Okay, well, dulce periculum!”[2](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25696813/chapters/63922603#chapter_5_endnotes) Alexander said, “What’s life without a little risk, anyway?”

“Sorry if I’m worried about the literal evil god blowing up my penthouse,” Tony muttered. “This feels like a bit more than a fun risk. Trust me, Ham, I’m all about adding a little spice to the evening, but this feels like a bit much.”

“I just want to talk to him,” Alexander said, “Like a normal person. He won’t do that if he thinks I’m keeping him at an arm's length.”

“You _are_ keeping him at an arm's length.”

“He doesn’t know that!” Alexander said, “Tony, I just want my dad to talk to me like his son instead of treating me like a random student.” Tony maintained a stoic silence, looking out the window. Alexander sighed. “C’mon Tony, please?” he asked, “Give him a chance. He hasn’t tried to kill me yet, right? That has to count for something.” Tony sighed exasperatedly, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Fine,” he said, “But he’s on thin fucking ice. And! He’s your responsibility.” Alexander smiled widely.

“Thank you, Tony,” he said, “You won’t regret this!”

“I sure hope I don’t,” Tony muttered, “Jarvis!”

“Yes, Mr. Stark.” The AI’s voice entered the conversion, sounding around the room.

“Remind me to buy some hard, hard, liquor,” he said, “I’m going to need it for this.”

“I’ve added it to your grocery list.”

“Thanks, Jay.”

\----

“Alexander, are you sure I’m not intruding at this party?” Loki asked hesitantly, “I know when I’m not wanted.” Alexander and Loki were on the training floor of the Avenger’s building. They’d finished their lesson earlier this morning but Loki’s room was on the same floor. After Alexander had formally invited him to the party, he’d panicked and started worrying about his outfit. Now, probably five hours later, they were finally dressed, but Loki was having second thoughts.

“It’s fine, Ja- or Loki? Sorry, what do you want me to call you?” Alexander asked, “Because I don’t know if we ever cleared that up.”

“Well, I‘d prefer if you called me fa-” Alexander cut him off with a glare.

“I’m not calling you father.” He sighed.

“Loki is fine.”

“Right, Loki,” Alexander said, “It’s fine. I cleared it up with Tony. He says it’s fine. It’s not a big party, I just want to drink a little, talk, have a good night.”

“Drink?” he asked, “You’re a child.” Alexander rolled his eyes.

“I’m technically almost fifty.”

“Not in that body you aren’t.”

“God, Loki,” Alexander said, “Even if we’re only going by my physical age, I think Tony made it twenty-six on my ID. That’s five years over the legal drinking age.”

“You’re a child,” he insisted, “Children don’t drink alcohol.” Alexander rolled his eyes.

“I’m not arguing with you about this,” Alexander sighed, “Let’s just get in there, okay?” Loki took a deep breath, before taking one last glance down at his outfit.

“Okay, I’m presentable,” Loki said, “I’m ready.” Alexander nodded and began their walk towards the elevator. He pressed the Up button and turned towards Loki.

“One last thing,” he said, “According to Tony, you’re my responsibility. Do you know that that means?” Loki blinked. Alexander sighed. “It means that you’re going to be on your best behaviour. I do not need a cocky Tony telling me he told me so, clear?”

“Crystal,” Loki said, “And there’s nothing to worry about, son, I’ll be on my best behaviour.”

“I’m not your son.”

“Except you are.” Alexander groaned.

“Sometimes I forget how much of an asshole you were,” Alexander sighed, “Luckily it doesn’t take long for you to remind me.” Thankfully, Loki bit his tongue, allowing the two of them to stand there in silence. The elevator arrived, the doors opening slowly. Inside, stood Doctor Stephen Strange. He’d abandoned his usual blue robe and red cape for a simple black and white tuxedo.

“Doctor?”

“Hamilton,” he said, “Have you been eating your protein?”

“Uh, definitely,” Alexander lied, dragging Loki into the elevator with him. Britney Spears played softly in the background. "Eggs, chicken, water, the whole thing." Strange hummed.

“Who’s this?”

“I’m Loki,” he said, sticking his hand out for Strange to shake, “A pleasure.” Strange shook his hand hesitantly.

“You look familiar,” he said, “Aren’t you the one that tried to destroy New York earlier this year?” Loki winced.

“Everyone seems to dwell on that,” he said, “Really, not one of the critical points in my personality.”

“Why are you hanging out with this guy Hamilton?” Strange asked, “Actually, why is he even in this building? Does Stark know?”

“He’s here because he’s my biological father,” Alexander explained, “He’s been helping me figure out my new Asgardian abilities. And, yes, Tony knows.”

“And, he wants me to be here,” Loki added, “Right, s- Alexander?” 

“For now,” he agreed, “Yes, I want you to be here.”

“Well, I’m excited to see how the evening unfolds,” Strange said. The elevator’s door pinged, opening to reveal the party in full swing.

“Look who it is!” Tony said, “My favourite people! Harry Potter, older Reindeer Games and Ten Dollar Bill.”

“Hey there Tony,” Alexander said, “How’s the party going?”

“Well, Bruce is drunk,” Tony said, shrugging, “Clint is getting there and Nat and Steve are watching and laughing.”

“Yo!” Clint said, his words slurring slightly, “Is it just me, or does Loki look older? Like, a _lot_ older.”

“Not just you,” said Natasha, “What happened here?” Alexander shrugged.

“What about my brother?” Loki asked, changing the subject, “How is he faring?” The rest of the group let the subject drop, it was obvious that there was no clear answer here.

“He’s grabbing the group another round,” Tony said, shrugging. 

“And you?” Strange asked.

“I’m doing great,” he said, “Come, all of you, get a drink, relax!” The trio walked towards the main group. Bruce and Clint were leaning against each other, supporting the other’s weight as they sat on the couch side by side. Natasha was watching fondly from the side, leaning over the piano. Steve was sitting on the loveseat, sipping from a small glass of whiskey. Alexander dragged his father onto the empty couch across from Bruce and Clint, sitting side by side.

“I’ve returned with more drinks!” Thor said loudly, “One for everyone!”

“Actually, we have three newcomers,” Tony said, “Do you mind getting some more?” Thor looked over to them, his smile dropping when he spotted his brother.

“What are you doing here?”

“He’s here with me,” Alexander said, speaking before Loki could, “We’re… bonding.” Thor frowned but thankfully dropped the topic. 

“Here,” he said, offering the three newcomers glasses, “I think Clint and Bruce could use break anyways, and I’ll just go get another one for myself.”

“Thank you, brother,” Loki said gratefully.

“Thanks, Thor,” Alexander said, also taking a glass gratefully. Thor nodded, before going back to the bar to get himself a drink. He sipped the alcohol warming him pleasantly from the inside out. Loki sipped his drink awkwardly, frowning when he swallowed.

“What’s wrong?” Alexander asked, nudging his shoulder, “Is something wrong?”

“This isn’t alcohol,” Loki said, “This is juice.”

“What do you mean?” Alexander asked, sipping from his drink, “Tastes like alcohol to me.”

“Alcohol is much stronger on Asgard,” Thor said, reemerging from the bar, “That’s why my brother and I will never get drunk off of human alcohol, unless, of course, we add a little Asgardian stuff into it.” Thor pulled out a flask, pouring a dark liquid into his glass. He held it out offering it to his brother. Loki held out his own glass gratefully.

“Thank you, Thor,” he said. He took sipping, sighing pleasantly. “Much better.”

“Do you think I could try some of that?” Tony asked.

“I would advise against it,” Strange piped up, “I mean, if Asgardians aren’t affected at all by Earth’s alcohol it’s probably not a good idea for humans to try Asgardian alcohol.”

“What about me?” Steve asked, “I can’t get drunk off of alcohol.” Strange paused, thinking.

“Just because you can’t get drunk doesn’t mean you can’t get alcohol poisoning,” said Strange, “Unless we did a couple of tests, I wouldn’t risk it.”

“What about me?” Alexander asked, “I’m half-Asgardian.”

“Again, same thing,” Strange said, “We’d have to run a couple of tests. I wouldn’t risk it.” Alexander sighed and took a sip of his normal, Earth whiskey.

“I don’t understand mortals,” Loki whispered, “Always drinking and using bad judgement when their lives are so short and fragile.”

“I mean, don’t Asgardians drink?” Alexander asked, pointing to Loki’s own glass.

“Yes, but we are not nearly as fragile,” Loki responded, taking another sip. “It’s like they think they're immortal until someone reminds them they can bleed.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Alexander agreed, holding up his glass. “I spent all my life trying to write something to be remembered by, to build something that would make sure my name lived on years after my death. People always wondered why I worked so much, why I spent most of my life working, but it was just because I knew that life was short.”

“And you did,” Loki said, “Make sure people remembered your name, I mean.”

“My, my, that sounded like a compliment,” Alexander said, smiling coyly, “Are we making progress Loki?” Loki rolled his eyes, taking another sip from his glass.

“I’m telling the truth,” Loki said.

“For once!” Tony piped in, “Isn't your whole shtick that you’re a trickster? Like the actual god of lies?”

“Admittedly, yes,” Loki said, “But I’m not lying.” Loki leaned back, relaxing on the couch’s backrest, sipping from his glass.

“Well, I wouldn’t say I did great,” Alexander said, “Until earlier this year my name had left common knowledge. But thanks.”

“But that’s not your fault,” Loki said, “It’s just because you were never president. Well, that’s what I think, anyway. I actually think you could’ve become president had you not gone and died in that foolish duel.”

“Somehow you both complimented and insulted me,” Alexander said, “I’m impressed. Also, it sounds like you did your research. Have you been googling me?”

“I have never, and will never google anything,” Loki said, affronted, “I wasn’t lying when I told you I watched your progress, Alexander.” Loki looked at him with sincerity, but Alexander couldn’t bring himself to look him in the eye. He looked down, into his glass of whiskey.

It was strange. Even though Alexander had brought Loki to the party for the purpose of talking to him, actually doing it was still strange.

Ever since he’d left him Alexander had created an image of his father in his mind. He’d villainized him, perhaps too unfairly, but talking to him, face to face had destroyed that false image. Alexander was coming to see that his dad, that Loki, was a real person. Alexander sighed, draining the rest of his glass.

“I need another drink,” he said, turning to face Loki, “What about you?”

“I need a refill as well,” he said, “I’ll come with you.” The two stood up together, as they passed Thor, the thunder god grabbed Loki’s wrist.

“Here, brother,” Thor said, offering him the flask, “I have another.”

“Thank you, Thor,” Loki said genuinely, slipping the flask into his coat pocket. Thor shrugged, taking another swig from his own pint of beer. Alexander led Loki to the bar. As Loki followed him he approached the bar apprehensively.

“Something wrong?” Alexander asked, confused.

“The last time I was at this bar Hulk threw me around like a ragdoll,” Loki said, “I’m afraid is triggering some… less than great memories.”

“Huh,” Alexander said, “I feel like you deserved that one though, can’t find it in myself to sympathize. I’m afraid I’m awfully fond of New York.”

“So I’ve heard,” Loki said, rolling his eyes playfully, “Actually, I’ve heard you’re pretty possessive of it.”

“It was my home when I first arrived in the country,” Alexander said defensively, “And! I practically built Wall Street. I’m allowed to be possessive.”

“Of course,” Loki said sarcastically, “I am so sorry Mister Wall Street.”

“This is slander,” Alexander said, “I take full offence. Expect a twenty-page pamphlet under a pseudonym later this week.”

“Oh, I will,” Loki said smiling, “Though, are you not going to take a break?”

“Take a break?” Alexander asked, pouring himself another glass, “What do you mean?”

“Unless I’m misremembering,” Loki said, “Your birthday is coming up, no?” Alexander shrugged.

“I mean, I guess,” he said, shrugging, “But that doesn’t mean I take a break. I rarely took breaks, normally Betsey and I would celebrate on a separate day once I’d found a spare moment. Even then, it would just be lunch. I didn’t have much time between work and my children.” He paused for a moment, smiling reminiscently. “My son, Philip, your grandson, his birthday was just eleven days after mine on the twenty-second. By the time I could get time off work it was closer to his birthday than mine. We would throw him a small affair, between him and a couple of friends.” Loki smiled softly.

“I wish I could’ve met your children,” Loki said, “Really.” For the first time, Alexander was starting to believe that Loki wasn’t lying, that he really regretted missing his life.

“I wish you could’ve too,” Alexander said, softly, “I really do.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 Actions speak louder than words.  
> 2 Danger is sweet.


End file.
